Fix You - My Only Exception
by Nemi-Dina
Summary: She blinks at the slender figure standing by the open bay window and recognizes the young man instantly. Gone are the poor fashion skills and the scratches or bruises. Now the twenty year-old man standing before her has stubble on his jaw and slick raven hair coiffed to perfection. AU / MODERN DAY / BELLARKE
1. Chapter 1

**This is a fiction I posted on here about a year ago – maybe more than a year ago.**

 **My account had a glitch or maybe I was hacked so all of my stories were deleted. Now I'm posting them again.**

 **I hope you enjoy this sad / fluffy bellarke story. And, please stay tuned for part 2 and 3 which are complete. I'll post them in the following 24 hours or so. I still need to read-proof them and correct a few spelling mistakes here and there.**

 **…** **...**

 **I – ONE**

 _"The way you speak is very important." Her father would always say. "It portrays you, represents you – do you understand, honey?"_

 _She would nod though half his words eluded her._

 _"And when you have nothing good to say, then better not say anything at all."_

 _That she thought she could understand, so she would pay attention to her language and to which words she'd use. And though she is only five, she thinks she can soon learn to speak just the way her father does._

She's playing in the courtyard of the school, reminiscing his lecture and waiting for him to come pick her up that sunny afternoon. She's speaking to herself when her mother comes bolting through the gates. Abigail Griffin appears to be quite disheveled, she has bloodshot eyes and messy hair. And in fact it looks as if she has just come out of bed or else spent a whole lot of time crying.

"Mommy?" The girl calls and looks up at the tall and slender woman.

The woman raises her hand and waves. "Clarke!" She says in a shaky voice. "Common, baby, hurry. We need to get to the hospital."

That day, five year-old Clarke learns that sometimes people can be almost dead but not quite. It's what happens to her dad when his heart stops. They call it a heart-attack and even if she has gotten very scared for her father, she likes that very new word, _heart-attack_.

Fortunately, her father heals and doesn't die and she's happy. But just to make sure that he's alright and that he will always be safe from that dreadful sickness, she promises that she will study hard and become a doctor. That way she can work in hospitals and if her daddy's heart falls sick, she will be able to fix it.

She knows that she will be able to fix him, fix people in general and as she imagines herself growing up, she knows that no one can take this inspiration away from her.

Fixing people's bodies and hearts – She whispers under her breath every once in a while and giggles to herself, it sounds quite nice when she says it and she loves the way it rolls out of her mouth.

And like her father says, the way you speak is very important, so from then on if she can't be a doctor yet, she will simply have to speak like a grown up, and more specifically like a grown up who can fix people's bodies.

…...

The first time she meets the Blakes, she's only six years old but there is that instant connexion between them and she knows right away that Octavia can only be her platonic soulmate while Bellamy is her evident enemy.

She is standing in a corner of the courtyard, alone as usual and immersed in her own little theories about living things and insects.

She is observing a brown worm as it struggles to move across the tarred ground when the little brunette comes running her way, munching on a brownie and extending her chocolate-stained hand for her to shake.

"Hello! I'm Octavia! With a big O." The blue-eyed little girl says enthusiastically.

"Hum – I'm Clarke and – you know, your hand is dirty." The blond-haired girl scrunches up her nose and steps away but attempts a polite smile nonetheless.

"Oh!" The little brunette lets out a giggle and looks down at the residue of chocolate, sticking all over her hands. "It's just chocolate!"

She shrugs and wipes her palms on the hem of her dress, her lips stretching into a wide smirk.

"You know, Bellamy always says that a little dirt is good." She explains and her eyes lit up as she repeats what her older brother has taught her.

"Well, that's – that's very funny." Clarke stammers as she recalls her mother's advice. "Because my mommy says that dirt is a big problem! And it is a so so big problem when you're sick too and my mommy is a doctor."

The shorter brunette casts her head down when Clarke mentions her mother. For a long while they remain silent but when Octavia's sobs break the awkward silence, Clarke feels bad, wondering what caused the girl to cry so suddenly.

"Hey!" She nudges her and shakes her head frantically. "Don't cry."

"I – I – never –" The little Octavia stammers through her loud sobbing. "I never see my mommy, I think – I think, I don't have one."

She mentally takes note of that important detail: never to mention mommies, because it makes her this new girl cry. The second thing she needs to take into account is a much more complex problem and its name is Bellamy.

He comes running the moment Octavia's crying reverberates throughout the courtyard and he is prepared. Prepared for what? Clarke is not sure but she already is stepping back, just in case.

"What's wrong, zipperhead?" He asks as soon he reaches them, not so discreetly glaring at Clarke as he rubs his little sister's back.

He looks really bad in his washed out coveralls and the oversized baggy shirt. Clarke refrains from commenting on his poor lack of fashion though as she remembers her father's words: to remain silent if she has nothing good to say. She notices with a withering look that he seems to know better when it comes to fighting or breaking the rules given the amount of scratches and bruises covering his face and arms, and last but not least, he is obviously a few years older as he towers over the two of them.

"Did she hurt you?" He asks roughly when the little girl looks up at him, tears dropping down her cheeks.

"No." Octavia whispers quietly and reaches out for Clarke's hand. "She's my friend now." She adds simply and smiles wistfully. "Right, Clarke?"

Clarke's green eyes freeze as the two children stare at her expectantly and before she can think, she's nodding frantically, her heart suddenly racing inside her chest because Bellamy's dark brown eyes are drilling a hole in her head and she's convinced that if looks could kill she would be dead already.

"Yes!" Octavia sings out, her tears drying already and she pulls Clarke closer to her brother.

"Clarke!" She chirps out happily. "You are going to love, Bellamy! He's my big brother and he always scares the bad guys away!"

The heart of the matter is that, though she tries to be nice to him to make Octavia happy, she can't possibly deny that her first encounter with that – that thing can only be described as hate at first sight. His dark brown eyes are too vicious to deliver any sort of friendliness and his sharp features are too tough to convey the least sympathy, so she thinks she has better ignore him as much as she possibly can, failing to understand in the process, that her indifference is the one thing that drives him crazy.

 **II – TWO**

They grow up together in the small town called Wilmington, in Delaware. It is a friendly and cosy place in the daylight but when night comes, it turns into that eerily quite and empty desolate village. So by the time she turns twelve, Clarke is already dreaming of leaving the shrinking hole she grew up in, her light head filled with great plans and great ambition, prospects of a brilliant career in the medical field as well as hopes of finding the perfect partner to have a number of babies with.

She thinks she's late that very early morning as she hurries out the front door, hardly locking up before sprinting down the narrow and familiar street and as usual, when she reaches the outskirts of her neighborhood, Bellamy Blake passes by as he drives on his obnoxiously loud motorbike. Surely waking the entirety of their town before he speeds down the main avenue, that one, she thinks with a grimace. She knows that he is sixteen now and has successfully passed his driving license, and is therefore allowed to drive the monstrous vehicle he calls his baby, but she is convinced that he is a public menace and if only she had the required skills and if only she wasn't a minor, she would find a way to fire a lawsuit and have him deprived of his most precious belonging.

Fortunately, she recalls with a smile, his sister is nothing like him and Clark can't help but grin happily as she sees her emerging from the street which Bellamy had previously sprung from. She is wearing the same old blue dress with a matching ribbon holding her hair in a side ponytail and she looks as happy as usual, the dimples in her cheeks showing as she giggles.

"Clarke! I knew you'd be late too!" She waves enthusiastically and her feet start racing down the street and then up the avenue to join her friend on the sidewalk.

"Yeah. Mom forgot to wake me before going to her early shift at the hospital." Clarke sighs audibly. "And dad – well dad's been acting really weird lately."

Octavia bends down for a few seconds, catching her breath and nodding at the same time to let the blond know that she is listening.

"Well." Octavia takes a deep breath and proceeds to walk alongside Clarke as they follow the path to school. "All men are weird anyways."

Clarke nudges the shorter girl and sighs again.

"I'm serious, zipperhead." She whines, the nickname having stuck a long time ago, partly because of Bellamy but mostly because she likes how much it annoys the younger girl.

"Don't call me that princess, for the hundredth time, don't!" Octavia tenses up visibly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Fine. Sorry." Clarke can't help the smirk tugging at her lips because she does not, in fact, feel the least sorry and Octavia knows it, so she pinches her arm.

"Ouch!" Clarke moans and massages her skin, shooting her friend a glare.

"So," Octavia starts with satisfaction at the sight of a grimacing Clarke. "What's up with your father anyways?"

"I'm not sure." Clarke looks up at the cloudless sky as they walk, her eyes wondering at the beauty of the light blue surface overhead. "It's like he's hiding something, like – like he's planning something on the side. I'm onto him anyways."

Octavia shakes her head in disbelief.

"Doesn't sound like your father." She shrugs. "I mean, he's the most truthful guy around, I think."

"I used to think that too." Clarke whispers wistfully.

"All right," Octavia claps her hands as they approach the large and decrepit building that is Mount Everest middle school. "Spill it, Clarke! What happened?"

Clarke takes a long and calming breath before opening her mouth again, feeling her heart skipping a beat as her friend squeezes her hand.

"Octavia, I think my dad is cheating on my mom."

 **III – THREE**

It wasn't him cheating, or her cheating. No one is cheating on anyone. In fact, everything looks terrific for a while, too smooth to be true and too calm for her to believe that her parents are fine. But she is a sucker for love and affection and she basks in the moment, forgetting about how often her parents used to argue and fight, deciding that she is better off pushing the dark thoughts to the back of her mind as she recalls the gradual change in their demeanor and especially her mother's.

As time passes and she comes to celebrate her sixteenth birthday, she realizes that her dad's gift must be, in fact, an apology of some sort foreshadowing an impending catastrophe. The dark shimmery Dodge car and the sweet sixteen party are too much of a present, she thinks. Her parents are not the kind who pamper her in any way and though she is an only child, they never buy extravagant gifts, always encouraging her to be more independent, expecting her to find a part time job at the local store to save up on her allowance and start planning her future in college.

Still, she thinks, she has better ignore all the depressing questions and suspicions dawning on her tired mind. And Octavia is probably right, she has to start enjoying life, she has to forget about all of the things gone wrong between her parents so that she can better focus on her own self, and the immediate present.

"Hey, princess!" A raucous voice calls over the loud chatter and the deafening music blasting inside her house. "You, all right?"

She blinks at the slender figure standing by the open bay window and recognizes the young man instantly. Gone are the poor fashion skills and the scratches or bruises. Now the twenty year-old man standing before her has stubble on his jaw and slick raven hair coiffed to perfection. And as he approaches her, she inhales deeply, enjoying the sweet fragrance of his cologne.

"Bellamy Blake!" She cackles good-naturedly. "Who would have thought that you of all people would show up to my sweet sixteen?!"

He lets out a mocking chuckle, taking a sip of his beer and shuffles closer to the couch she is sat on, shoving the brown haired girl sitting next to her and finding barely enough space on the edge of the leathered surface.

"Well what's a party without the actual bully." He shrugs and nudges her playfully.

"Oh, please! Don't flatter yourself, you are not that important."

"Ouch!" He laughs openly at her comment. "When did you get so feisty?"

"Let's just say you missed a lot ever since you left." She whispers in his ear and for a little while she wonders if she's lost her mind because it might have seemed like she was flirting and the look in his eyes causes her heart to flutter uncomfortably inside her chest.

Bellamy has long left Wilmington, having graduated and moved to New York where he majors in law and political science. And as time passed, he grew older and more serious and surprisingly, she grew to dislike him a bit less. But now that she sees him for the first time ever since his senior year, she can't believe that she feels so strangely comfortable around him, his face reminding her of the good old days, of their history of dedicated hate throughout their childhood years.

"Why, I'd love to catch up." He whispers in response and she feels his warm breath caressing her bare neck.

"Ha!" She chuckles and pushes him away. "Don't be a tease, Bell." She shakes her head playfully. "You're obviously not so good at it."

"Are you kidding me?" He scoffs. "All these years of suffering must have been enough proof!"

She knows exactly what he means by such a scornful remark but she doesn't fluster the way she used to back when they were kids and she laughs softly instead, her head tilting to the side as she scrutinizes his mature face.

"Yeah, I think I've lost count of all the wonderful times you actually pranked me." Her voice is gentle and amicable as she sits cross-legged, her long and shimmery black gown covering the whole of her legs and she doesn't fail to notice his dark eyes trailing down her frame, and she thinks she sees a very slight glint of admiration shinning through them.

"I haven't." He smiles kindly at her, the serenity stretching his lips reaches his sparkling eyes and causes her to repress a gasp silently.

"Hey! Get away from my best friend!" A familiar voice whines and Bellamy is quickly pulled away from the couch for Octavia Blake and Wells Jaha to sit down on each side of the blond-haired birthday girl.

"Go fetch us some drinks, dear brother!" Octavia orders and flicks her wrist as she glances up at an annoyed Bellamy. "Oh c'mon, you owe me remember?"

Clarke isn't sure what Bellamy owes his sister but she doesn't ask any questions and cranes her neck to look at Wells instead.

"I'm so glad you could make it, Wells." She says with a grin and wraps her arms around his neck. "When did you get home?" She asks, because her best male friend is slightly older and is a freshman at NYCU.

She is a little drunk and very much tired due to accumulated lack of sleep but she's happy. She has her sweet party, her parents pretending to be in fond love again and her two best friends standing at arms length. Archly looking up at Well's soft eyes, she remembers clearly the first time they met when she enrolled for the basketball club at school. He used to be the best point guard in Wilmington but then he graduated and had to move to New York. Now he is back home for the first time ever since the beginning of the school year and she's missed him so much, she wishes he were allowed to sleep over with her and Octavia.

She's till basking in her happiness and the comfort radiating from the presence of her two best friends when a piercing scream jolts her out of her thoughts, causing her and Octavia to jump up in fear.

"What the hell?" Wells croaks out and a series of gunshots disrupt the party, the music quickly coming to a stop.

"Oh my God!" Octavia exclaims and they all lie down on their stomach while the rest of the teenagers rush out of the house in deafening shrieks, drowning the street in a cacophony of panicked voices screaming for help.

"Stay here, stay down!" Wells orders and rises up to his feet.

Clarke refuses to listen and jumps up, ready to tug at her best friend's arm but only to be yanked away by a panicked Bellamy, holding her against his chest and dragging her back down to the hardwood floor.

"Wells!" Clarke screams at the top of her lungs. "Wells, don't!"

But her friend barely turns around to look at her one last time and then her strangled screams and sobs are lost in the spring night air.

 **IV – FOUR**

The first time she willingly caresses Bellamy's arm, the three of them are standing by the two brown coffins. She's in the middle, each of her hands gripping hard at the siblings standing on each side of her and though she tries her best not to break down, she fails to hold in the salty tears as they come rapidly down her cheeks, leaving streaks of dark mascara over her face and causing the rest of the mournful party to look sadly at her.

She hates it. All of it. If it was up to her, there would be no such thing. No funeral, no post-funeral reception and no dark-cladded guests. And that way she wouldn't even have to deal with the fact that they're dead. Both Wells and her daddy. Gone and never coming back, and all that because some deranged man had fired theses bullets that specific night? It doesn't add up, doesn't make sense to her how her dad and Wells were the only ones shot by the crazy man.

In the beginning few people believe her, and they don't want to hear about her conspiracy theories, but by the end of high school and more precisely the day she turns eighteen, no one believes her, in fact, they are all convinced that it was all a sad turn of events and a coincidence.

"No one is trying to kill your family, Clarke!" Her mother scolds her right after they've attended the memorial dedicated to her father and Wells.

She did not want any sort of mournful event, and if anyone asks her, well, she now thinks that almost all sorts of rites are doomed.

"Why were you and dad so weird the few months prior to his death?" Clarke asks, her voice sounding cold and unfaltering.

"How many times do I have to tell you?" Her mother says through gritted teeth. "Drop it. The case has been solved. It was all an accident."

And in that moment, she thinks that she might very well kill her own mother but the soothing voice of her father comes to her clouded mind and his wise advice overwhelms her. "Never say anything you know you'll regret saying", his voice echoes clearly in her mind and she bites her cheek, holding in her rage.

She doesn't believe her mother. She doesn't believe any of them cops and officials and she'll find a way to solve the mystery regarding the death of her father and her best friend. She will avenge them... just not right away.

 **V – FIVE**

She's astonished when Bellamy Blake, of all people, comes to help. She's already nineteen years old and though everyone's moved on, she knows she hasn't and neither have Bellamy and Octavia.

Together, they sit down on the hardwood floor of their shared apartment located twenty miles away from New York, they work on the few evidences that they have left hoping to elucidate the whole story. They do that every saturday night and she orders Chinese takeout while one of them scatters the folders and shits of paper across the floor.

Though pre-med is the equivalent of jail and she barely has time to relax, Clarke is intent on solving the murder case which the police department has so carelessly discarded. Bellamy happens to be a wonderful advocate to rely on and she is not sure when exactly they started being such close friends – she can't really draw the line, but she doesn't care much. She's grown so accustomed to his touch and his peaceful words that she can only remember the present and it's as if she's never even hated him to begin with. Octavia is quite the solid assistant too, always ready to cook the most wonderful dishes and overall a sweet caregiver. She's not sure how she would have kept on living if these two hadn't been around and she can only be grateful when she remembers a five year-old Octavia running her way with chocolate staining her little chubby hands.

It starts to dawn on her that she hasn't seen her mother in three years, but she can't bring herself to forget and forgive. She can't forgive her mother's carelessness and lack of involvement and didn't she love her husband? Doesn't she want to know more about his death? The whole debacle following her siwteenth birthday is still fresh in her mind and she can still feel the vicious grip of her mother on her as they argued. Sometime around 10 am the day following the little private birthday celebration, her raging mother had screamed at her and almost tried to choke her.

"I'm still bugged by this whole 'shut up, the case is solved' thing." Bellamy's voice sounds loud enough for her to be jolted out of her thoughts and she lifts up her head to look at his dark brown eyes.

"Clearly, your mom knew something." Octavia whispers softly as her hands flick through the medical folder for the fourth time that night.

"She was probably trying to protect you, you know?" Bellamy sighs audibly as he shuffles closer to her.

"She choked me, Bell. She actually tried to choke me."

"But she stopped in time for you to breath and apologized." Octavia gives her a small smile.

"I know, I know. She wasn't herself but..." Clarke shakes her head as she tries to make sense of her mother's actions. "I just still feel like she had something to do with it all and – what if it's her? What if she ordered the hit?"

"You can't think like that." Bellamy says soothingly.

"Why not? I mean there must be a link between her and the company and that stupid Marcus Cane. And I'm starting to think maybe she was cheating on my dad with that slag." Clarke feels frustrated as his eyes bare into hers.

"Because, Clarke. She's your mother." Octavia's voice is hushed and gentle and Clarke feels the tears welling up in her eyes as she looks up at her friend, a sad smile barely tugging at her lips.

"I hope you're right."

 **VI – SIX**

She's close to turning twenty when the dreaded phone call changes her life forever. Her and her friends' efforts have finally paid off and now the reopened case of the murder of her father and best friend is being thoroughly studied. She knows that she is wonderfully lucky to have a lawyer and a future private detective as her best of friends and that without them none of the mystery would have been solved, so when she picks up the phone that early morning, she calls for them as she stands by the kitchen aisle, her voice reverberating throughout their thin walled and cramped apartment.

"It's the prosecutor!" She exclaims excitedly and brings the receiver up to her ear.

"Hello." She chokes out, her heart pounding erratically inside her chest.

"Hello, Clarke." The older man on the other end of the line sounds calm and collected. "New evidence came in this morning. It all makes sense now."

She holds in a squeal and grips the phone harder against her ear.

"It seems that your father had important information to deliver to the New York Times, information pertaining to a terrible lab-experiment gone wrong at the company."

"Huh-huh." She's nodding though she knows perfectly well that the man can't see her.

She can hear him exhale through the phone, releasing a long and steady breath.

"Clarke, I'm so sorry but it seems the doctor in charge of the whole operation which caused three clients to die is in fact – well he's your mother's lover, he's the man your mother was cheating on you father with and it seems that his love for your mother was in fact, a cover up. Marcus Kane and Abigail Griffin are the main suspects. Sadly, you were right..."

 **VII – SEVEN**

She's crying and she thinks she'll never be able to stop the tears from dropping again and again, all the way down her cheeks and to her chin. Octavia is crying too, softly and discreetly as she sits cross-legged on the hardwood floor but she doesn't seem to have enough energy to come comfort her. So it's Bellamy coming to wrap his strong arms around her, engulfing her in a warm embrace and repeating the same words over and over again.

"It's O.K. You're going to be O.K."

She normally doesn't ever try to be that affectionate with Bellamy because he's her best friend's brother and a frenemy of some sort given the amount of arguments they go through on a daily basis. But just like the day she lost her daddy and Wells, well, her facade crumbles down cruelly and she finds herself clutching his gray tee-shirt desperately, yearning for his tenderness and burying her face in his warm and comfortable neck.

Time passes by, slowly but surely healing her heart and shortening the jail sentence which her mother has to endure. She had been proven guilty as an accomplice in the murder of her husband. The poor Wells was only collateral damage, showing up at the wrong time in the wrong place and trying to stop the man from shooting his best friend's father. It was all the company's fault as they'd threatened to ruin her parents' career if they dared saying anything regarding the whole lab-experiment debacle. Her mother's lover, Kane, was an employee working alongside her parents and he was the one behind the ordered hit so he has to endure the rest of his lifetime in prison.

Clarke doesn't speak to her mother ever again and hopes that she never will but as time passes and she comes close to her twenty-first birthday, she starts to feel guilty. After all, her mother never meant for her father to die. She had been trapped and couldn't find her way back as the nightmare unfolded. Besides, no matter what happens, she will always be her mother, the one who gave her birth, the one who had to carry her nine months inside her tummy.

And Bellamy's constant advice to simply lay off of the hatred and hurt are starting to be quite effective, of course, Octavia's nagging is driving her nuts too, and so, if forgiving her mother means a little peace, then why not?

The day her mother is released from prison, they're moving in their new house; Octavia, Bellamy and her. They're like a little family, still roommates after such several years. None of them are seeing anyone, not on a regular basis that is. Clarke knows that Bellamy gets to sleep with the women from the law firm once in a while, but it's nothing serious and he doesn't look like the kind of guy who'd actually ever want a family. Octavia is the one most likely to fall in love and start a marriage and an actual family life, but this guy that she dates sometimes, Jack something? Well, he doesn't want any of it and because she likes the sex, she keeps seeing him. In all truthfulness, Clarke thinks that it's all quite pathetic and unhealthy, she has never thought that love and sex could be separated and that is partly the reason why, at age twenty-one, she's still a virgin.

She doesn't tell her mother that when she comes to the house that rainy afternoon. Why would she tell her? She's almost like a stranger now, and she hasn't seen her in such a long time that she's not sure how she's supposed to behave around her.

Still, she's trying. She's smiling and nodding as her mother passes the threshold and she hopes that things will fall back into place somehow.

 **VIII – EIGHT**

She's trying to understand a critical passage of her yellowish medical book regarding the functioning of kittens when Bellamy's hand lands on her shoulder.

"Hey, you!" His face is glowing and his grin bears too much happiness so she furrows an eyebrow as she looks up at him from her spot on the soft couch.

"You'll never guess what came in the mail, today!" He exclaims.

She simply shrugs with a curious smile and he seats down next to her.

"I got a position at Wilmington, you know in city hall?" He's bellowing and his hands are gripping her waist forcefully because he can barely contain his joy.

"Hum – Okayy." She chuckles lightly.

"Clark!" He shakes her frantically and stands up abruptly. "If I get enough votes, I can be the mayor of our hometown!"

And then something clicks inside her head and she jumps up, her hands grasping his and together they jump ridiculously up and down, basking in the merriness of the moment because Bellamy has always dreamt of the political field and now this opportunity might just be his big break.

 **IX – NINE**

She can't really explain it but as her relationship with her mother improves, the space between Bellamy and her widens. He doesn't spend much time in New York anymore and is in fact officially moving back to Wilmington because he has now become the youngest and best lawyer of that town. It's all quite surreal and she hasn't really had enough time to process the whole thing because she can't believe that he is about to turn twenty-eight already though he still looks so much younger.

Of course, their comfy little house is now too expensive for her and Octavia to share so they start looking for another place to live, especially when both of them are still paying back their student loans. They find a modest apartment in Long Island and decide that it's good enough because it's not too far off their workplaces and the subway station is just down the building.

They get to have another sort of routine, things are different and they're barely getting used to the void left by Bellamy's departure but they manage, latching onto each other.

Around the end of spring, Clarke gets to celebrate her twenty-third birthday but she can't believe that Bellamy of all people won't be attending. He says that he has a series of necessary meetings he absolutely needs to attend and unless he suddenly decides to leave the political scene, he simply won't be there. It sounds like bullshit to her, but she doesn't tell him that. After all, he never really lies to her.

The little private party doesn't go as planned. Though her friends and workmates are all there and even her mother is perfectly sane and joyful that night, well, she can't help but miss Bellamy and think of him ruefully.

That guy she recently met at the hospital comes strutting her way, extending his hand for her to take the cup full of wine but she barely notices, her eyes trailing up to the wall where a neat framed picture is hung. It is one of Bellamy, Octavia and her as they stand by the Hudson river, arms locked together, the three of them grinning idiotically. It takes her a little while but with a wry smile, she realizes that one of Bellamy's hands is in fact resting low on her hip and she almost laughs out loud as the sweet memories come back to her.

"Hey, happy birthday." The husky voice causes her to tear her eyes away from the picture and she stammers as she tries to remember the man's name.

"It's Finn." He reminds her with a polite smile and she nods, moving over so he can seat down next to her on the couch.

"You're one of the interns specializing in surgery, right?" She asks hesitantly and he seems happy to know that she does remember him.

"That's right." He chuckles lightly. "Raven invited me. I hope you don't mind."

She looks up and around, spotting the slender brunette standing by the window and chatting actively with Octavia, a beer in hand.

"Oh – Oh yeah. You're the boyfriend, right?" She asks with a smirk.

"Well," He starts hesitantly. "We don't know what we are yet, but I'm sure enjoying what we have."

She doesn't really know why, but ever since Bellamy left, the mere sight of loving couples makes her stomach churn and when Finn looks up fondly at his soon-to-be-girl-friend, she thinks that she needs to get drunk.

"Give me that." She cackles good-naturedly and grasps the cup he'd initially offered her, gulping down the liquid as if it were mere water.

"Woah – slow down birthday girl." He warns her playfully, a hand coming to her bare thigh.

She stiffens when she feels his fingers pat her exposed leg and whipping her head around, she glares at him.

"What?" He asks uneasily. "Did I bother you with..."

He doesn't finish his sentence and looks down at his hand instead as it slips up her dark skirt.

"I mean, Raven and I we're – we're having that open relationship thing," He explains in a hushed voice, his lips coming close to her ear as he smells her hair, "and I know she won't be bothered if you and I just – have a little fun tonight."

He dares running his fingers higher up her thigh, coming close to her underwear and she proceeds to put the empty cup down on the floor, pushing her hair behind her ears as she straightens again and turns slightly on the couch, facing the prick who calls himself Finn.

She doesn't take time to think about any of it, she doesn't warn him and she's convinced that actions speak louder than words anyways, so she simply goes for it. Her cold hand slams against his cheek and his head tilts to the left because of the impact. The slapping sound doesn't go unnoticed and all the guests stop dead in their tracks, their eyes focusing on a fuming Clark.

"Don't ever touch me." She slurs ghastly, raising up to her feet and shaking her head as she storms out of the apartment.

She doesn't come back for the night. She goes to a motel instead and slumps down on the white queen sized bed, clutching her eyes closed and holding her knees close to her chest. She knows it's somewhat presumptuous and even preposterous, her leaving the party like that given that she is the birthday girl, but she feels awful. And it's not entirely Finn's fault. Sure, he's an asshole and he should stay away from her forever, but he's not the reason why she's feeling so down and moody. She's feeling wrecked because Bellamy is not here to scare the bad guys away the way he used to back in middle school and also because no one's calling her "princess" and no other man can pull off the stubble look quite like he can and...

And with a strangled and painful sob, she realizes that no one compares to her father the way Bellamy does and she misses them. All of them, men of her lives: Daddy, Bell and Wells. And now that Bellamy's gone, she's afraid she'll never have any loving man in her life.

 **X – TEN**

She's already twenty-five when she is faced with her very first emotional challenge. It turns out Bellamy has met that secretary in city hall and things are getting serious because she's moving in with him and they're celebrating their one-year anniversary by having a little private party.

Clarke needs to put on a brave face, she needs to be happy for her best friend and she has to try and forget that she has been single ever since she was born because she wouldn't want those horrid couples throwing their love at her face or feeling sorry for her at her best friend's little private party. No, she's better than that – so she will stay strong and act all cool and casual because Bellamy was all lovey-dovey on the phone, and he deserves to be oh-so-disgustingly-very-happy-in-love.

Dear God... Since when does she hate love and couples that much – and is she now a spinster? Like that Bridget Jones, or something? Oh, well – at least Octavia doesn't seem that happy either because as they hop out of the car and stretch their tired limbs, she looks crankier than ever before.

"What if she's a total slut?" She asks with a sigh and Clarke laughs at her grimace.

"She can't be." She says reassuringly and puts her arm around her shorter friend. "Bellamy wouldn't settle for someone like that."

Together they walk to the front porch of Bellamy's house and wait for a little while as they stand before the large mahogany door.

"I guess – here goes nothing." Octavia takes a deep breath and pushes the button for the doorbell.

"Oh by the way," Clark reminds her friend, "we still need to talk about you being weird all week."

Octavia nods and waves a hand dismissively.

"We have time for that. Right now, it's Bellamy and his girl under the spotlight."

Just as she finishes her sentence, the door swings open and a tall redhead grins at them, pulling the door further and ushering them in.

"You must be Octavia and Clarke! Enchanted to meet you!" She chirps in a thick british accent.

"Nice to meet you, Cassandra." Clarke answers for the two of them.

"How was the journey from New York?" The woman asks and Clarke notices that the red-head is in her late twenties.

"It was all right." Octavia shrugs and they all walk in the living-room, settling each on a different armchair.

"Bellamy will be here in no time." Cassandra informs them, clapping her hands joyfully. "He's just running late on a few folders down in city hall."

The two girls nod and smile politely.

"So when are the rest of the guests coming?" Clarke asks tentatively.

"Oh – oh, they should start filing in around nine." Cassandra chuckles nervously and pulls at the hem of her red satin dress, feeling slightly awkward.

Clarke looks down at her wristwatch and sighs audibly, it's only six and she doesn't feel comfortable lounging around with a woman she barely knows.

"Aren't you offering us anything? Not even, say, a cup of water?" Octavia sounds cranky still and so annoyed all of a sudden.

Cassandra fumbles around as she raises up to her feet.

"Sorry about that. I'm nervous so I tend to forget – I – I'll be right back." She stammers and rushes to the kitchen, leaving the two girls in a stark silence.

"What's up with you?" Clarke asks as soon as Cassandra disappears.

"I'm not feeling well." Octavia says simply and bends down, holding her stomach.

"Is it that time of the month?" Clarke asks with a wry chuckle.

"No and that's the thing actually." Octavia whispers worriedly. "I haven't had my period in awhile."

Clarke's eyes grow twice their size and Octavia can swear that they're about to jump out of their sockets.

"Have you tried like – a pregnancy test recently?" Clark asks and her voice sounds somewhat shaky.

"No – I couldn't bring myself to do it." Octavia answers shamefully and tears well up in her eyes as her friend stares at her, shock written all over her face.

They can't discuss the matter much because Cassandra comes back with the drinks and soon after Bellamy gets home with a bunch of his friends from the law firm and from city hall.

Clarke makes the most of the few seconds she actually spends with him, exactly when he comes running towards her and Octavia and engulfs them in a big group hug, his homy laugh reverberating throughout the cosy little house. But the sweet embrace is short-lived – certainly doesn't last long enough if you ask her.

Time passes quickly when she's chatting with Octavia but when the latter leaves claiming that she is too tired to stay the whole night, Clarke finds herself drinking as if she was an endless pit. She needs alcohol to feel less pathetic because it's only nine and already she is left to saunter awkwardly around the house and in the front yard because, clearly, none of the guests warm up to her quite well and the feeling is perfectly mutual. She's never liked the political field or the people who work in it anyway – expect for Bellamy, of course. Yeah, now that she thinks about it, he has always been and always will be that one – that very little...

Oh crap – she might have bumped into someone and splashed her drink on their white immaculate shirt and it sucks but – oh, God, why would she even care about that snobbish guest? He probably has enough money to buy another twenty designer shirts, that punk...

But it's not just the stupid guest that is starting to get on Clarke's nerves, some of the things she sees before her are starting to look quite blurry anyway and some things just look funny and, is she already drunk?

Oh, well, perhaps she'll simply walk back inside and go up to the guest room to crash on the bed and slip into unconsciousness. That way she can dream endlessly and forget about the stupid reality.

By the time she reaches the warm bed in the guest room, she knows she's definitely drunk and she's not too happy with herself. On a brighter note though, despite her intoxicated state she has managed to figure out that little thing she was thinking of earlier... about that little flicker she sees in Bellamy's sparkling eyes...

It's quite simple really, it's just that...

Bellamy sure is – He is the one, the single stupid – only exception.

 **XI – ELEVEN**

She thinks her heart just about stops when Octavia's pregnancy test turns out to be positive. Octavia of all people, is expecting a child and she doesn't know the first thing about babies and she thinks that Jack will never want to be the father, that he will leave and never come back to visit her or the little munchkin. And it's all so overwhelming because Clarke feels that she is directly connected to that little tiny being growing in the stomach of her best friend and so she feels very much responsible.

It's no wonder that it all comes naturally when – on a late rainy night, Octavia cries listing her worries and Clarke swears solemnly that she will never leave her or her child, that she is the godmother and that she will always be there for them.

The first sonogram is a wonder. They can see the little thing's tiny head and a part of its abdomen but it's too little for them to deduce wether it's a girl or boy. Octavia doesn't mind though because she says she's convinced she'll love the little troublesome either way. Clark, in the mean time, can't help but wonder how gender will affect the whole process of raising the child into a functional and healthy human being because she's always been the cautious one, the one who always makes sure that things are all planned and fixed up. And oh – look at the irony of it all, having to take care of an unexpected little being all of a sudden and one that wasn't even growing inside her.

Bellamy can't come as often as they'd like him to because he is now planning to marry Cassandra and the wedding is supposed to happen around the end of June which happens to be the due date for the baby. Octavia tends to be crankier on her bad days and she always fails to appreciate her sister-in-law, calling her ridiculous names and complaining about her lack of ambition and about the fact that Bellamy is the sole breadwinner. In fact, Clarke comes to the conclusion that the blue-eyed brunette wishes Bellamy would never marry the british red-head, she's just too polite to ever actually say it.

Octavia's belly grows so quickly, swelling magically and it's so funny every time the baby moves or kicks with her little feet because Clarke and Octavia can see the skin vibrating and sometimes they even perceive some waves as Zara performs her usual rituals inside her mommy's belly. Clark approves of the name, she thinks that it's perfect and when Jack, the father, calls to confirm that he won't raise the kid alongside them, she thinks she might just drive all the way down to his apartment so she can punch him in the face, again, again and again.

"It's okay, Clarke. Really, I just sort of expected it anyways." Octavia tries to smile as the light sob escapes her lips. "He's still studying and doesn't even have a proper job, he would be the worst father, not to mention that he's always warned me, said that he did not want any children."

They're at the mall, trying on different dresses for Bellamy's wedding and Clarke thinks that she feels almost as lonely and heartbroken as her best friend when she sees herself in the mirror opposite, the pink bridesmaid dress suiting her perfectly.

"I understand – about Jack." Clarke says carefully and gives the pink-cladded Octavia a little hug, making sure that she's gentle enough no to crush her big belly.

"And hey! Look at me! Turning twenty-six in less than a month but still single and oh – did I mention still a virgin too ?" She's joking and her lips are stretching into a smile as she looks fondly at her pregnant friend but the merriness doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"Clark." Octavia sighs audibly. "I know exactly what your problem is – you're – you're in love with Bellamy, aren't you?"

Clark gasps and puts a hand on her heart, surprised by her friend's words.

"I am not." She shakes her head frenetically and a nervous chuckle slips out of her mouth.

"Clark." Octavia chides with a grimace. "I can see the way you look at him and I know you've been keeping some of his shirts, using them as your pajamas, and sleeping with them on at night."

Clarke breathes in and out as her friend stares at her expectantly.

"He's just – just my other best friend and I miss him, that's all."

Octavia doesn't look quite convinced but she nods slowly, seemingly taking Clark's word for it or simply dropping the topic because Clark's eyes look quite teary all of a sudden.

 **XII – TWELVE**

Something's wrong.

They're about to hop in Clark's car when Octavia lets out a wild scream. Bellamy is not there to carry her, in fact there isn't a single man in sight and Clark has to gather all of her strength to push her pregnant friend inside the vehicle. The screams are petrifying and Clarke's hands shake violently as she puts the key in the ignition, driving off and towards Wilmington's hospital.

They make it in time for the medics to carry Octavia to a stretcher, rushing her to the OR while Clarke is left behind because she's not allowed to come inside the white restricted room. Her phone dies when she tries to call Bellamy and she growls loudly, sending the device crashing down against the white concrete wall of the waiting room. The few people present look up at her in wonder and then a security agent is having her escorted out of the building. Outside she finds a pay phone and is able to dial Bellamy's number but it goes straight to voicemail.

"Damn it, Bell. Turn on your fucking phone!" She grits her teeth and reminds herself that she needs to act more collected, she is a doctor after all, she should be able to behave sensibly.

"Sorry," she apologizes after a little while. "Just call me as soon as you get this – it's Octavia, she's going into labor."

She ends the call and immediately dials her mother's phone number, knowing that she is in town too because she's attending Bellamy's wedding as well.

"Hello?" The familiar voice reaches her ears and Clarke inhales deeply.

"Mom." She whispers into the phone, a light hiccup shaking her chest.

"Clarke, honey, what's wrong?" It sounds like her mother is starting to worry and Clark feels suddenly guilty for all the years she held the death of her father against her.

"Mom, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." She cries into the phone, tears now dropping down her cheeks.

"Clarke, what's happening?" Her mother wonders in a high-pitched voice.

"Mom, something's gone terribly wrong with Octavia going into labor, she's in the OR, I think there are some serious complications with the baby and they don't even know if she'll make it or if the baby will make it..."

"Hold on, honey!" He mother croaks out urgently on the other end of the line. "I'm coming right away."

 **XIII – THIRTEEN**

Bellamy looks so ghastly as he paces the room. Hands digging inside his pockets and shoulders slumped as his head remains cast down.

He'd come an hour later, screaming profanities at his bride because she'd turned off his phone and because of her he'd learned about Octavia through Clarke's mother only a whole hour after the incident. And now, he is helpless, and so are all the rest of them because except for Clark and her mother, they don't know the first thing about a cesarean operation or the function of blood pressure during labor and there is virtually nothing they can do to help Octavia's situation.

"Bell, you're giving me another headache, please sit down." Clark's mother complains as she massages her temples.

Her and Clarke are sat down on the cosy couch displayed in the quaint waiting room while Cassandra remains stood by the door frame, her eyes never leaving the groom.

"I can't." Bellamy growls. "If I do, I think I'm going to explode."

Clarke sighs and rises up to her feet, padding slowly towards her friend.

"It won't last any longer, I doubt it. It's already been five hours." She says reassuringly, "the doctor will be here any minute."

Just as she finishes her sentence the surgeon walks inside the room.

"I'm sorry, mister Blake." The tall and blue cladded man nods pitifully a he looks down at them.

"We did our best but – the mother couldn't bare the blood pressure, her – her heart stopped."

 **To be continued...**

…...

 **Part 2 and 3 are complete. I just need to correct a few spelling mistakes before posting them. I'll be sure to do that in the following 24 hours.**

 **Please leave a review to let me know what you thought of this. Thank you. Bellark all the way :)**


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you so much for the feedback.  
Thank you_ ** _Jennyhale, AbuseBellarke-Stories-Blog and Abusetazzynazzy. You guys put a smile on my face._**

 _BEWARE:_ _this story is a sad story. Don't say I didn't warn you, but on a brighter note, it's really bittersweet and I hope you'll enjoy this chapter._

 **XIV – Fourteen**

Clarke holds her breath when she steps inside the white painted room. It's cold and silent, and looks just as expected but she still shivers at the sight of the mortuary fridges lining the wall, the metal surface reflecting her and the staff member walking by her side.

"Octavia Blake, 32.B." The nurse says quietly. "She's right here."

They stop right by the corner of the room and Clarke bites the inside of her cheek, readying herself because the woman is grabbing at the silvery door handle already and pulling the body out as if it were some mere insignificant item. _It hurts more than it should_ , she thinks, the whole process of visiting the hospital morgue but it has to be done. Who else is going to come say good-bye if Clarke, doesn't? Both her mother and Bellamy wished to see the child first, Cassandra looked so uncomfortable she simply left and then...

"Miss Griffin. With all do respect, we don't have all day." The nurse complains and nudges Clarke's shoulder to shake her out of her thoughts.

Clarke sighs and apologizes, trying her best to sound polite and composed but she can feel the void beginning to swell inside her chest and it's like even though she _can definitely breathe_ , her heart just won't stop over reacting, pumping blood faster and faster...

The white sheet is being lifted and she finds herself gasping at the sight of the dead Octavia lying underneath. Gone is the bright, sweet and always happy-looking brunette, replaced now by a dull and empty shell.

With a shake of her head, Clarke has to accept the undeniable truth. She has to admit that the one who used to be her closest friend – _her soul sister_ – is something else entirely now and even though she tries, _really hard_ , to keep calm and unfaltering she has to put a hand over her mouth to prevent the weak sob from escaping her lips.

She feels stupid and empty... So strangely devoid of emotions or thoughts and it's as if some fairy has passed by and simply stolen that little something away from her heart, living her hollow and colorblind...

The nurse senses her distress and puts a hand on her shoulder, saying something about mourning and time but Clarke can't care, she is too engrossed in her sudden misery...

In fact it's as if a hurricane has been released inside of her.

She storms out of the cold white room, her feet clapping loudly against the floor. She doesn't stop when the nurse calls after her complaining about papers which still need to be filled out. She doesn't stop when she's out of the building either. She just keeps on running...

When she reaches the corner down the street, she drops to the asphalt floor, sobbing and curling into a ball – and what do they matter, those people around her, sending her curious looks? _She just can't care less_ , she doesn't care that she's in her bridesmaid dress or that Bellamy's wedding is ruined and then...

 _Well_ – before she even realizes it, _she's wailing_ , releasing a blood-curdling scream that causes everyone within a thirty feet radius to turn around and stare...

 **XV – Fifteen**

Unfortunately, not much gets better. _The pain doesn't go away_ , she could scream to death and it would still be there.

She realizes she's in denial. It is all still so new that oftentimes she indulges in the possibility of Octavia being simply away for a little break. And so every night when she gets home, Clark believes that the brunette might very well appear in the doorway, back from work and ready for them to chatter happily the way they used to.

Every night she stops by that blue-themed bedroom of hers, looking so lively and bright with those collage-artworks stuck on the walls and those framed pictures lying on the white desk by the window. She likes to tidy it and clean it from the dust because – well just because, there's something soothing about it... And - and it will always be Octavia's room – _always_.

…...

With time, Clarke's discomfort eases and she learns to smile again, even if only a little. She barely realizes it but with the baby shaking up her entire routine, there's a whole lot of things to learn, so much more than she ever thought she would.

Zara is definitely like the opening of a bright new world, she is the warm bundle of mushiness which she has come to crave, she is so cute and harmless that she makes all of their hearts melt, even pushes away the dreadful void though she doesn't quite neutralize it.

Clarke can't carry the munchkin for now, she's too afraid of crushing it or letting it fall – or maybe it's those nasty images of a dead Octavia still haunting her and holding her back? Either way, she likes that Bellamy is carrying her instead. She simply enjoys watching him rock her quietly, laying soft kisses on her forehead.

"I'll never let anything happen to you." He whispers lovingly as he puts the baby back in its cradle and Clarke feels her heart skip a beat – painfully so.

It's not the timber of his voice that has her on the verge of tears, it's not the way he looks down at the baby either... It's the strange patent vacancy in his dark eyes, it reminds her of the little something which has been stolen from her heart only a week before. And in that moment, she remembers her father's condition and his near-death experience back in her childhood...

 _Sometimes people can be almost dead but not quite... They call it a heart-attack..._

She wishes it could be that simple again, hopes that she can fix both hers and Bellamy's heart but the truth is, adult life can be such a mystery and now she feels so small because... Well, this time, the truly sad thing is – she has no idea what to do...

In fact, she doesn't even know if she can fix any of it – _at all_...

 **XVI – Sixteen**

It gets really hard when Bellamy stays for longer periods of time. Zara wakes more than three times throughout the night and even though both her mother and Bellamy always beg for Clarke to stay in bed, especially the nights she's not working an entire shift, she can't help but show up in the kitchen. She helps them warm the milk for the little troublesome and then because all three of them stay up until she eventually falls back asleep, Clarke likes to make tea and cocoa. They chatter and sometimes surprisingly find the will to chuckle at some of the stories they tell each other but before they know it, it's dawn already and each of them has to get ready for the day except for Abigail.

She is conveniently unemployed and so volunteers to babysit while they're at work and when they get home, she's already cooked dinner. They sit together and make small conversation as they eat and it's all so nice – it is _so pleasant_ that sometimes Clarke finds herself daydreaming about the possibility of them being a family.

The phone is always here to jolt her out of her ludicrous fantasy, of course, and every time it rings she knows it's Cassandra calling to check up on her fiancé. The woman calls everyday, somehow reminding Clarke that Bellamy is a soon-to-be married man and that her mother is her only real family.

She forces the disheartening thoughts to the back of her mind and pushes her hair behind her ear that early morning.

Somehow she finds enough will to smile at Bellamy when she settles at the table for breakfast.

They always grab the cereal-box and simply pour just enough milk in the bowl for their stock of energy to hold until noon. Some days, Bellamy says he doesn't have the heart to eat anything and would rather go to work on an empty stomach but Clarke is always here to force something down his throat.

Time flies, several days pass and Bellamy and Zara end up spending two whole weeks living in Clarke's apartment. She doesn't mind, of course. She feels too comfortable to say anything about Bellamy's situation but is aware of the whole thing dawning on Cassandra. She knows it's only a matter of time before something goes wrong.

 **XVII – Seventeen**

The first angry phone call happens as expected and Clarke almost smiles when she hears Cassandra screaming on the other end of the line.

" _Where is my husband?"_

It's a very simple question and Clarke should simply pass the phone to Bellamy but then something causes her to stop dead in her tracks. She realizes she almost smirked at the sound of Cassandra's voice and now she hates herself for it. She has to blink several times to let it sink in. _She almost smiled at the fact that Bellamy and Cassandra are on the verge of breaking up_...

A sickening feeling settles in the pit of her stomach. _Since when has she grown so selfish and so blatantly opportunistic?_

"Cassandra, huh?" A husky voice says nonchalantly.

Clarke barely nods when Bellamy settles at the kitchen table, rubbing his eyes tiredly and then grabbing a bowl from the cupboard. She tries to forget that she's wished for him to lose his fiancée and puts on a brave face. She smiles at him and grabs the container to pour him some milk.

Bellamy thanks her and pours cereal in the bowl, something he's done every morning for the past fifteen days.

" _Hello?! Clarke?!"_

Clarke shakes her head as soon as she remembers the angry fiancée on the other end of the line.

"I'm sorry, I was spacing out – what were you saying?" She asks quietly.

" _I want to speak to my husband, I know he's right in front of you, I heard him thank you for the milk!"_

Even though Clarke can't see the other woman, she guesses that she must be snarling as she speaks, the irritation sounding clearly in her voice.

She lifts up the phone and is ready to give it to her friend but freezes when she looks up. She tries not to wince because there's a very strange flicker in Bellamy's eyes and for a split second she thinks he might have been staring at her lips. But then he pushes a spoonful of cereal into his mouth and looks away, causing her to release the breath she forgot she was holding.

"Just tell her I'll call her back." He whispers with a shake of his head and then shrugs nonchalantly.

Clarke understands that he's not willing to speak to Cassandra and feels sorry for the woman despite the circumstances. Then she looks down at the table and notices the bowl full of cereal and milk and which Bellamy has been eating from and which he has – at some point – pushed towards her. She remembers with dread that the two of them have been sharing breakfast for a while, eating from the exact same bowl and never feeling awkward about it.

Bellamy looks at her quizzically and furrows his eyebrow so she shakes her head quickly, nodding dumbly and telling Cassandra that her fiancé will get back to her as soon as possible. Then she puts the phone back down on the table and tries to breathe evenly, her heart racing inside her chest.

 _She's worried,_ she feels very concerned now and she doesn't want to be in the middle when things between the two lovers get ugly, she doesn't want to have anything to do with it – she will never be _the other woman_.

Within seconds, Bellamy notices her distress and surprises her when he grabs her hand, intertwining their fingers and shooting her a small and wistful smile.

Unfortunately, his tenderness doesn't help her at all – if anything, her cheeks are on fire and she hopes to God that he doesn't notice.

 **VIII – Eighteen**

Life goes on and so does Clarke – She's moved on, she's not sure how – she can't tell when she started living again but somehow, _she does get better at this mourning thing_ and she doesn't lust after Bellamy as much as she used to. She's managed to spend less time in Octavia's old bedroom and is even planning on changing the whole design of her apartment – that way she can have her official fresh start now that she's started her residency... She finally feels like a real doctor. A dream come true despite the hardships that life has thrown at her.

Time definitely heals the void inside her chest – not very quickly but surely it does, little by little... She knows that she simply needs to be patient.

Bellamy and her mother are still living in her apartment and she has grown to love that little fact so much that she is scared of the day they'll have to leave to get back to Wilmington. It's all so simply beautiful, the fact that she, Bellamy and her mother wake up in the same home, at the same time and then sometimes she even has the strength to bump Bellamy's hip playfully as they brush their teeth.

They go to work, their little routine undisturbed but by the end of the month, Clarke recognizes grimly that she has never gotten used to Cassandra's complains about Bellamy spending more time in New York than Wilmington. So every time she hears them arguing on the phone, she simply rushes to her ipod, puts on her earbuds and mashes the volume button frenetically until Bellamy's cries are drowned out by the loud music.

After the up-tenth and most heated argument, Cassandra learns to cut Bellamy some slack because every time he mentions Zara and Octavia's dramatic situation, she feels bad and apologizes. But she still has him promising that it's all only temporary, that he'll come to Wilmington as soon as they're done and over with Octavia's memorial ceremony. So when Clarke gets home after a late night shift, she finds herself counting the days Bellamy and Zara have left to spend in New York.

And though she wishes she wouldn't, she feels the stupid pang in her heart. She has less than a week to make the most of her time with them and she realizes that the pain is a bit like destiny or perhaps fatality...?

 _Because even if you know it is bound to happen, it still hits you hard in the face when it does_ , she thinks.

And the pain won't leave you alone _– it stays here with you... indefinitely..._

 **IX – Nineteen**

Less than two days before Octavia's memorial ceremony, Zara's father shows up and Clarke can't believe her eyes when he comes looking for her at the hospital. She's still in her scrubs the moment she spots him standing by the reception desk but he does her best to avoid him, pulling her hoodie over her head and looking straight ahead.

Just when she thinks he didn't see her he looks up and gasps loudly. She inhales deeply and then she is so intent on escaping that she's practically running towards the exit.

He comes rushing after her and she ignores his calls, hoping that if she just keeps her head down he will eventually leave and she can then pretend that he was never here. Unfortunately, by the time she reaches the parking lot, he's already standing in front her, panting and reaching out to grab her wrist.

"You have to hear me out." He says between two breaths.

"Why? What use could you possibly be?" She asks and she is unforgiving when she looks him in the eye.

She feels a little bit of remorse when she sees the sadness in his glance, and for a split second she almost believes that his intentions are good but then she remembers a crying and panicked Octavia begging for help and her heart aches dramatically.

"You are a coward, Jack. You left her when she needed you the most. And now you're not even a father – you're just the guy who impregnated her is all." Clarke is fuming and before she even realizes it, she's pushing the man's hand away and stepping closer, her warm breath hitting his face.

"I know – I know." He says calmly and scratches his neck anxiously. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know what I was doing! I still don't know but I'm trying and – and I want to be there as my kid grows up..."

"Oh – oh my, oh my – So now she _actually is_ you child, huh?" Clarke says in mock-surprise.

"Hey!" Jack raises a hand to his heart, looking down at the ground and shaking his head frenetically. " _Now that's not fair, Clarke_. You know I'm younger than you guys and my engineering studies are driving me nuts I – I barely have enough time to sleep with the part time job and all the shit I have to do for school."

"Oh shut up, you asshole!" Clarke doesn't even realize she's being aggressive when she nudges him and pushes his chest. "Octavia was working, studying and growing a baby in her stomach all at the same time. You have no excuse – so please just _shut the fuck up_."

She is breathing heavily and her knuckles have turned white because she is contracting her hands so vehemently, and when she looks at his stupid eyes again, she thinks she might end up punching him.

"I'm sorry Clarke." Jack says simply and his shoulders drop. "I am really sorry about everything but Zara has the right to know her father and if you love her and really care about her, you will let her come see me."

Clarke considers his words for a second, and even though she hates to admit it and she is still fuming – the truth of the matter is, _Jack is right_.

"We'll talk about this another time." She whispers with a sigh. "Right now, the only thing I can think about is the fact that my night shift is over and I haven't slept in more than twenty-four hours and I need to go crash on my bed."

Jack nods politely and starts to walk away. Clarke inhales deeply the moment he turns on his heels but when he crosses the street and shuffles in the direction of his car, he turns around one last time and opens his mouth to yell something from afar.

"Think about it, Clarke!" He cries out with a wave of his hand. "She has the right to know about her father!"

…...

The second time Jack shows up, they're at the mall. They're arguing in one of the isles because Bellamy thinks that the pink pacifier is the one they need to buy, because he thinks it suits Zara's perfect little pink lips but Clarke is intent on buying the blue one because she thinks it completes the bright blue of her eyes. They don't realize how childish their arguing is until a distant voice interrupts them in their little battle.

"Are you people for real? Fighting over some stupid pacifier? Just buy them both already." The young man says with a shrug and gives them a little smile.

Clarke is surprised to see Jack dressed casually and carrying a paper bag in his hands. Bellamy snarls at him and then turns to her, whispering a little something in her ear but she doesn't really listen because it's all insults and Clarke doesn't even have the heart to act all witchy and angry.

"What? You wanna kill me too?" Jack asks and laughs nervously when Bellamy glares at him.

"No, he just thinks you're an asshole – which you are." Clarke says with a slight smirk and grabs both the pink and the blue pacifiers.

Jack shuffles uncomfortably and turns on his heels, getting ready to leave the two of them alone but Clarke calls after him and Bellamy comes to stand right in from of him.

"She told me about you – said you were interested in the kid." Bellamy says through gritted teeth.

"Well – she's my child." Jack says hesitantly, all the while looking down at Clarke, his eyes begging for help.

"Don't worry, Bellamy's not angry at you, not really." Clarke lies reassuringly and pulls at her friend's arm, pushing him a little so she can stand before him.

"And I did think about what you said the other night – so did Bellamy." She adds and tilts her head to the side, examining the man's face.

"So?" Jack asks, quietly and shyly.

"You're right – she has the right to know about you and – she has to right have you in her life." Clarke says half-heartedly and Jack is grinning and sighing happily already.

And for a moment Clarke thinks that Bellamy doesn't even care anymore – that he is so tired that he doesn't even have the heart to act as cold and threatening as he did only seconds before.

And in a way she is _thankful_ – she is happy to see him grow through this loss. Besides, she too is tired and doesn't feel like fighting with a remorseful father – and one that is only trying to mend the mistakes of his past.

 **XX – Twenty**

The first time Clarke is truly and terribly concerned about Bellamy's well being, she is standing by the living room. It is three o'clock in the morning and she has just changed into her pajamas after a long shift at the hospital and she is ready to go crash on her bed but she stops dead in her tracks when she hears Bellamy's cries echo throughout the apartment. She feels relief when she remembers that Zara and Abigail are spending the weekend at Jack's that it's only her listening to the quarrel he's having with his fiancée.

"I can do whatever the hell I want whenever I want!" Bellamy screams at the top of his lungs and Clarke has to put a hand on her heart to prevent herself from gasping.

She shuffles closer to the kitchen doorway and leans on the wall. She wants to walk inside the room and do something to help the situation but she's too intimidated by his ongoing rage.

"Clarke is my friend – She's my family, how dare you?!" He is screaming even louder now, pacing anxiously in the kitchen and slamming something hard.

She has to put her hand over her mouth to prevent herself from whimpering because her best friend is almost like a stranger now. She has never seen him act so angry or violent and for a split second she is scared of what he could be capable of.

"Fuck you Cassandra – Fuck you and your stupid accusations!"

This time he ends the call by throwing the phone away and Clarke hears it slam hard against something, she hears wood breaking and loud thumping as Bellamy proceeds to damage more of her things and she does her best to hold in the tears which threaten to drop out of her eyes.

With each of those deafening noises, her heart aches for him and just when she thinks he might finally have calmed down, another terrible thing causes her to jump up.

Her limbs freeze and she almost stops breathing when she realizes that he has punched through the kitchen window. She is sure of it because he's screaming painfully now and the distant sound of glass shattering is unmistakable.

…...

"I'm so sorry." He says quietly. "I'm a monster. I'll have your kitchen fixed in no time – or better yet I'll get you a brand new one."

"Nonsense! You're my best friend – I _know_ you." Clarke says good-naturedly and ruffles his hair, smiling down at him. "You're stupid a lot of the times but you're not evil and – well yes, I guess a new kitchen would be a really nice way to apologize."

He is sat by the sink in the bathroom and she is standing before him, rolling cotton in her hands and applying alcohol on it so she can sanitize his wounds.

"I don't even know what happened – I – I was just so _angry_." He whispers quietly as if he were speaking to himself.

"I'm pretty sure that – this whole rage you had inside is just the second stage of mourning. You had to go through with it at some point." Clarke says reassuringly.

"But it's already been a month and a half. Shouldn't I be – like – over it or something? The anger I mean..."

Clarke thinks carefully before she speaks and grabs the surgical pliers from the shelf so she can pluck out the tiny little pieces of glass out of his skin.

"You've never lost anyone before – have you?" She asks tentatively.

"My mom died when I was less than five and then – I don't know I can't even remember it, I guess I just tried my best not to remember – Yeah, I thought it was better that way..." He says softly and looks up at her.

She falters for half a second, she has her heart on her sleeve and now her hands are shaking so she pauses for a few minutes, holding her breath and then exhaling very slowly before she applies the pliers over the wound. And when he keeps staring up at her and his brown eyes linger a moment too long, she is afraid that if she doesn't turn away from him, she might lose the little progress she's made within the last few weeks and simply crumble miserably.

She is seeing it again now, that terrible emptiness in Bellamy's look. And she never thought she'd feel that way again but for the first time ever since the first grade, she thinks that Bellamy's stare can be as mortifying as death itself.

"I guess, I was wrong. Forgetting is no healthy way of mourning." He says tentatively when she tries to look away and pretends to be busy with the task at hand.

Examining his fingers and picking carefully at the piece of glass stuck up his thumb, she tries to smile when she proceeds to speak again.

"No it's not. But you're a big guy now, you know you can do it."

He looks up at her again, stares hard at her and she eventually lets her eyes travel up his frame, taking in the beauty in his whole being, taking note of the way his shoulders shake when he sighs or the way his jaw tightens when he speaks. Then, her eyes land on his own – those grief-stricken brown orbs – and she does her best to put on a cheering face.

" _You can mourn properly_." She explains in answer to the confusion evident in his grimace. "You don't need to forget to let go, you know?"

Because he looks so disheartened, she pulls one glove off and grabs his shoulder, massaging it softly. His head droops and he leans in, resting his face against her stomach and she feels the strange little something which causes her heart to race and her cheeks to blush.

But then he's crying softly and she can hear the exhaustion in his sobbing so she pulls him even closer and repeats what he once told her to ease the pain.

"It's O.K. You're going to be O.K."

 **XXI – Twenty-one**

Even if deep inside, She selfishly wishes for them to fall apart she won't be that low and deplorable person – Clark is convinced that she is not that kind of friend so she will _try hard_ , she will bring them back together – or something... _After all, she's promised herself that she would be the one fixing peopl_ e... So if she can't fix the emptiness in Bellamy's eyes well...

 _She can at least fix this mess and save their marriage, right?_

Cassandra is so beautiful that Clarke feels stunned when she welcomes her at the door. Though the private ceremony is a memorial and a remainder of Octavia's departure – well, in homage of her happy personality, they've decided to let everyone dress in the brightest colors, that way they can celebrate the vibrant and lively being Octavia used to be. But for some reason, she feels awkward when she looks down at Cassandra's dress, taking in the shimmery golden dress hugging her hips to perfection and then something funny prickles inside Clark's heart, a bit like a needle stuck somewhere inside her chest.

"I'm glad you could make it." She manages to say in a strangled whisper because she didn't even think she would able to speak in correct terms. "You look – _stunning_." She adds with a feeble nod.

Cassandra nods at her with a small smile, the twinkle in her eyes coming back to life when she hears the compliment, and then she steps closer and takes the blond by surprise, wrapping her arms around her shoulders for a hug. Clarke remains frozen, her arms limp by her sides and barely lifting up to return the embrace.

Getting Bellamy and his fiancee back together, _she realizes with a sickening felling,_ is definitely going to be much harder than she expected...

…...

Fortunately there's quite a number of distractions to take her mind off of things that night. First she sees Raven for the first time ever since her twenty-sixth birthday and the whole Finn-debacle. Clarke apologizes for the years she's spent ignoring her and pretending that nothing happened when in reality she was avoiding Finn. Raven explains that she has long dumped him and that the " _the guy was an asshole either way_." They very quickly warm up to each other, telling stories about Octavia and their time spent with her and when the guests start to leave, Raven is still here, helping around and smiling softly every-time any one of them needs something.

They could have been a wonderful trio, she and Octavia and Raven would have definitely been such good friends, Clarke things ruefully, _if only she hadn't acted so cowardly._

"I'm really sorry." She says for the third time that night just as Raven puts the dirty dishes in the sink.

"Oh – girl! Please stop apologizing or else I'm going to barf." Raven chuckles at Clarke's grimace and bumps one of the girl's hips with her own.

Despite the lump in her throat, Clarke lets out a little laugh and Raven can see the relief sparkling in her green eyes.

…...

Somehow she does get them back together – sort of... Probably because Raven is here to help and finds a way to get the two of them alone in Octavia's old bedroom...

And though in the beginning, Clarke is quite skeptical, by the end of the ceremony, she is hit by the relief she didn't even know she was craving. Almost everyone has left when she notices that Bellamy and Cassandra are actually speaking to one another and smiling and exchanging long glances...

And then by the time the guests are all gone and the apartment is finally empty and silent, she catches them hugging in the kitchen. She knows she shouldn't stand there, in the corner, watching them but she can't help herself. She's too curious to walk away. She leans against the wall and then with a bit more of the staring and eavesdropping, she realizes that Cassandra is crying quietly over his shoulder and that Bellamy is whispering comforting things as he rubs her back.

It hurts a little to see them so – so... _Oh well_ , she's not sure which words to use to describe _that_ and – she doesn't think she wants to find the right words anyways, so she sighs instead.

She turns on her heels and finds enough strength to leave them alone, hoping that she won't have to do this stupid _cupid-thing_ ever again...

 **XXII – Twenty-two**

The three of them are leaving, they're officially getting back to Wilmington and lord knows when she will be able to spend such time with them again. She is surprised by the nostalgia that hits her hard in the chest when her mother pulls her in for a hug. This whole time, she has barely realized the amount of progress Abigail has achieved. She hasn't realized either just how much she has grown to love her mother again and it's such a shame to take notice of it only now, so she can't help but feel guilty when the woman who raised her pauses and smiles warmly at her.

Bellamy and Zara are a whole other story. She can't even look the man in the eye when he wraps his arms around her waist and buries his nose in the crook of her neck.

"Thank you so much, Clarke." He whispers in her ear and for the first time in years she thinks he's finally managed to open up to her, whole heartedly.

And when she pulls away he grabs her chin and she is forced to face him and look into those dark brown eyes. The emptiness is still there, she realizes and feels her heart sink inside her chest but there's something else – something she never saw flicker in his eyes before... She doesn't know what it is but she is convinced that it will come back to haunt her once they're gone.

The little Zara is already five months old now and she grins up at Clarke when she carries her and kisses her softly. Clarke doesn't fail to notice that the baby has the eyes of her mother and the complexion of her father but not quite – it is such an exotic shade of tan, it is neither caramel nor chocolate. It is not much of a tan either actually but more of a – a beautiful beautiful _olive – sort of like Bellamy_.

"Oh – you are going to be a good girl and let daddy sleep at night, right?" Clarke says playfully and nuzzles the little baby girl in the stomach.

The cute little one whimpers and then there's a barely audible giggle which catches them all off guard so they all smile and nudge Clarke, enjoying the sight of it all with Zara stretching her little lips and smiling up at her godmother.

"She really likes you, huh!" Bellamy teases his friend with a little bump in the side and Clarke giggles happily.

"She is going to miss you." Cassandra says kindly and only then Clarke remembers that she's still here.

She doesn't feel the pang in her heart when Cassandra gets closer or tries to be nice to her, not like she used to anyway. And when they say goodbye, Clarke even musters enough strength to step forward and actually hug the woman, the smile on her face never faltering.

 **XXIII – Twenty-tree**

She's turning thirty and on the eve of her birthday celebration and she realizes that she hasn't seen Zara, Bellamy and her mother in more than six months. She feels anxious, partly because she can't wait to see them all and mostly because she's afraid that the little one and half year-old Zara won't even recognize her after all this time. There's also that sort of general feeling of unease settling in. Because the thing is, she's very happy with her life, with what she's achieved and what she hasn't but she grows more and more irritated every time people ask her that stupid question: _"why are you single?"_

Like, heck! How is she supposed to know? What is she supposed to say? And why is it deemed so abnormal for a woman to be single at age thirty? Sometimes she imagines herself simply not giving a damn and turning to those who ask with a smirk on her face and a wonderful middle finger pointed in their direction – but once again, she thinks that she's better than that... So, the thing is – _she will not_ stress when her friends show up at her birthday party and _she will not_ fret when Raven or her mother try to play matchmaker. She will smile – yes, of course, _she will smile_! And it will be a bright and happy smile because she'll be enjoying herself...

…...

The little Zara does remember her so when Clarke steps into the Blakes' house, the little child jumps up to her feet, discarding her toys and pushing out a deafening shriek. She runs awkwardly, reeling in the direction of her godmother like a tiny little lunatic and it's really funny and cute so Clark feels her heart flutter at the sight of it all. She crouches down to the little girl's level and prepares herself for the harmless impact. Zara charges at her like a puppy ready to get his candy and together they giggle and swirl around and around and around because Clarke is pulling her up already and Zara loves to do the "tsurning" and "thse dnacing'" and when Bellamy comes rushing towards them to engulf them in one of his lovely group hugs, Zara shrieks again and demands that her daddy "tsurn boths dada-Carke and Zaza so they can fly like fplane in thse thsky."

They play together for a very long while, Clarke, Zara and Bellamy. Most of the time, Clarke is trying to understand what Zara means. Some of her words she can understand perfectly but some others are just impossible and so every-time Bellamy tries to leave she pulls at his wrist, keeping him by their side so he can explain to her the whole baby-language thing. She gets the hang of it eventually and when Zara whimpers and babbles trying to push out some weird words out of her mouth, they sound completely foreign because of her cute little lisp. But Clarke tries again, focusing on the pink little lips and stares hard at the little girl's sparkling blue eyes, hoping to decipher some emotional language.

And she actually gets it now, She knows exactly what it is that Zara needs.

"You want to take a bath, huh? You want to swim?" Clarke asks with a grin.

"Yeeeaaaaa!" Zara hollers and puts her hands on clarke's lips, staring up at her face and there's that familiar twinkle in her eyes which causes Clarke's heart to flutter again because it reminds her of Octavia. "Yeeaoo – go, go, go – baba – sim, sim, simming!"

Clarke can't help the gales of laughter the moment Zara sits back and crosses her arms over her chest. But before the child loses her temper, she bends forwards and grabs her.

"Simming?" The little Zara asks again and this time, her bright blue orbs are smiling wider than her lips and Clarke falls in love with the look in her eyes.

"Yes, honey – Swimming." She says carefully. "Swimming in the bathtub."

"Sim – baba?" Zara repeats with a giggle.

"No, honey, listen it's simple, just – " Clarke starts again and chuckles as she walks up the stairs and towards the bathroom. "BATH – BATHUB – Swi-ming in the bath-thub."

"BATHAAAAAAAAAASIIIIIM" Zara hollers with joy and Clarke gives up on the whole pronunciation lesson.

 **XXIV – Twenty-four**

A whole lot of unexpected guests show up the night of her birthday. Raven loves the big old wild parties and would kill to have one so she invites almost a third of the hospital staff. Against Clarke's complaints, Bellamy has decided to host the whole thing because the blond's little apartment is " _way too quaint and smaller than a shoebox_." Bellamy's exact words and the thing is, she _loves_ her apartment and _she loves_ how cosy and cute it is but there's no changing back when Bellamy is set on something – so she she just nods pitifully and lets him and Raven take care of everything.

The party is quite a success. Though Bellamy spends more time making out with Cassandra than he does paying attention to Clarke and Raven is also busy flirting with that hefty weird guy, and Zara is busy playing with her daddy-Jack – well, she thinks she has fun for the very first time in a very long time, so much so that she barely drinks any alcohol. She doesn't need it and she certainly doesn't want intoxication to distort her precious life so she promises herself not to get drunk ever again.

She meets a whole lot of people she hadn't even realized _liked_ her and she feels light-hearted. She especially enjoys these two lovely guys, those friends of Raven's. Their names are Jasper and Monty and she learns that one of them is a nurse and the other is a dentist and they are such fun to be around. They joke so much that sometimes she wonders if she'd take them seriously if she were to see them in their work places.

By some miracle, they manage to force her out of her shell and after they've eaten the birthday cake, they have her dancing and giggling and Clarke is almost astonished when she thinks she feels young, happy and beautiful again.

Like all good things the party has to come to an end and the two boys steal Clark away so as to make sure that she does save their phone numbers and that she does add them on facebook. That way they can stay in touch and hang out on their days off work.

When Bellamy's house is silent, empty and dark, she collapses on the bed in the guest-room and doesn't even have the strength to go wash the make-up off of her face. She doesn't care and she doesn't think she could be any happier. Rolling on her side, she grabs her phone from the nightstand and looks at the pictures she's taken with each and all of her friends, laughing to herself. She spends a whole lot more time looking at pictures of Bellamy and Zara. And she likes that they're always grinning idiotically or pulling funny faces, and she wishes she could see them everyday for the rest of her life.

Her eyelids eventually get the best of her and she has to push the phone away as she feels herself slip into unconsciousness. And just as she closes her eyes, just when she feels her brain starting to shut off, the names of her new friends keep ringing in her ears, as if echoing from afar.

 _Monty and Jasper_ , she thinks with a little smile and then she's gone... Dreaming of the good old days and meeting up with a bright and happy Octavia dressed in her favorite blue dress.

Holding hands, the two of them run across fields, meeting with Wells and Clarke's daddy and then they form that circle and dance happily, bathing in the summer sunshine and laughing uncontrollably.

… _..._

 _Now_ , the morning following the birthday party she finds herself sitting in Bellamy's car with a black scarf tied around her forehead, preventing her from seeing anything, Raven's idea apparently... If anything, Clarke feels pathetic and when she steps out of the vehicle, helped by Bellamy and Raven, her ankle twists and for a split second she's falling, face first towards the concrete floor. Bellamy catches her just in time though, holding her up and her back comes to rest comfortably against his chest.

"Sorry about that." He says happily and laughs when she flushes uncomfortably.

"Damn it, Bell." She says in mock-outrage, causing Raven to laugh at her.

In actuality, Clarke is enjoying herself, but she decides that a little teasing can be fun too, so she acts falsely annoyed and all.

"I think I actually hurt my ankle." She giggles at her own clumsiness and lets her friends guide her foreword and towards the front porch.

"I'm sure Raven can fix you up with a little something. And we have the bandage and all the stuff you might need – by the way, what's a little ankle-twist? Nothing, huh? It's not like it's broken or anything." Bellamy rambles on happily as they approach the front porch of his house and Raven calls him stupid and awkward and laughs for no reason, which causes Clarke to laugh too even though there's virtually not much to laugh about.

"Hold on, stop." Cassandra says a few seconds later and they halt right before the doormat.

Though she can't see her, Clarke knows that she's standing by the front door, she can feel her proximity and she smiles when she realizes that the jealousy she used to hear in her timber is practically gone now and replaced by feelings of friendship.

"Well?" Clarke says with a chuckle, "What now?"

Just as she chuckles again, she hears a very soft whimper, a little and very cute sound and it's as if – just almost as if...

She is not given the time to guess – Bellamy opens the knot in the back of her head and the scarf falls off, _and that's when she sees it._

There in front of her, on the door mat, is Zara sitting cross-legged. And in her arms she carries a little white puppy, a lovely labrador whimpering for affection.

Clarke looks down at the adorable thing and smiles. And as soon at it looks back at her, the inside of her heart melts. She tries her best to hide it but her eyes tickle as if she's spent too much time looking at the sun.

"Hapfy birthsday dada-karkee – tis for you!" Zara exclaims happily.

This time Clarke really can't help the tears in her eyes but she thinks it's alright – because it's all better now, and they're actually the good sort of tears, the ones that make you feel fuzzy inside.

So, she chooses not to hide them. No, she's letting them out – shamelessly.

 **XXV – Twenty-five**

In homage of her daddy, she calls him Jake-G, in homage of her _soul sister_ she buys him a collar in a light beautiful shade, the kind which reminds her of the blue in Octavia's eyes, and then in homage of her precious Wells, she has a silver pendant made with one of his art graffitis encrusted in it. Now, every time she looks at the little puppy she finds herself smiling. And then when he comes strutting in her room and climbs over her bed at night so he can sleep in her arms, she thinks that she's fine living alone.

…...

On the eve of Bellamy's thirty-fifth birthday, Clarke is a ball of nerves. She wants to return the favor, she wants Bellamy to have a party better than the one he threw for her a year before. So when she gets home after her night shift and it's midnight and everyone in her condo is asleep, she rushes towards J-G, carrying him excitedly and he licks her palms like he always does the second she gets home.

"You alright, baby?" She asks with a chuckle and grabs the leash from the shelf in the hallway.

She takes him out for a little wee-wee and poo-poo session and as usual he's careful and smart about those things so she never really is too grossed-out cleaning after him. She throws away the plastic bag with the dirty stuff in it and smirks down at him.

"You know if you could just poo flakes instead, it'd be great." She says playfully and unclips the leash because they're by the bay in Long Island and the place is empty and wide enough for him to play safely.

He doesn't try to run away though he's always so excited and happy, shaking his tail frenetically and she's very grateful for that. She plays with him for a little while, throwing the stick and he goes after it, bringing it back for her to throw again and again.

"You know, we have to find some really good gift for Bellamy – And – Dear God, if only you could speak, than you'd be able to advise me about the party." She tells him when she seats down on one of the few benches at the edge of the narrow boardwalk.

J-G whimpers lovingly and nudges her knee, licking her dark jeans and resting his front legs over her lap.

"I know – I know, you're just a dog, I shouldn't bother you with Bellamy or his fiancée or the way the two of them look at each other – and oh, crap I have to get rid of all of that emotional baggage huh?" She says playfully and pats his head.

For a short moment she thinks he understands her jokes because he's looking up at her with that little twinkle in his eyes and it sounds like he's moaning an entire sentence, trying to comfort her or something and then – it looks like...

"Emotional baggage? Don't look like the needy type though." A voice says somewhere behind her, breaking her train of thoughts and causing her to jump up in fear.

J-G barks angrily when Clarke turns around sharply, spotting a slender guy walking by but the man only chuckles in return and shuffles closer, crouching down to the dog's level.

"Hey – don't be angry, I'm just another New Yorker out for a little walk." He says kindly and scratches the dog's ear.

Clarke chuckles at the sight of her little baby squirming happily and enjoying the scratching and the patting. And it's as if the stranger smiling down at him was never a threat to begin with.

"I'm sorry." The young man apologizes as soon Clarke looks him in the eye. "I'm Murphy. I live right down the avenue in the same condo – you know the..."

Clarke interrupts him with a smile on her face. "I now who you are – You live right down the hall, I think I saw you a few days ago, moving all of your things – so you're new to the neighborhood huh?"

Murphy lets out a laugh, nodding and pulling away so he can seat down next to Clarke.

"Yeah – just settled last week-end. Got a position in the Queens." He explains.

"What exactly do you do?" Clarke asks and tilts her head to the side, examining the man's features and she thinks he looks younger, probably in his late twenties.

"I'm a programmer. I make a whole lot of apps for Google and so far they've been quite happy with the things I came up with, so they promoted me to a higher position and I couldn't decline even if it meant I had to move across the country." He says excitedly and she can see the passion in his eyes.

"It's great that you do what you love to do." Clarke says simply and looks ahead and at the bay.

It's a beautiful sight, she realizes now that she's really looking at it. The lights from the skyscrapers on the other side are reflecting in the moonlit water and the soft spring breeze slipping over only enhances the peaceful moment.

"So – what about you, miss emotional?" Murphy asks hesitantly and Clarke remembers that he is still sitting right by her.

"My name's Clarke." She says simply and notices the eagerness in his eyes when he looks at her. " _I'm a surgeon_." She adds with a grin because she too is passionate about her job. "I love dissecting people for a living."

His eyes grow twice their size and he is quick to laugh and give her compliments. She knows he is surprised and might have thought her to be a dumb blond in the beginning but she doesn't mind the reaction and simply enjoys his presence because there's something about the way he carries himself.

"I used to think that when you got nothing to lose you got nothing to hope for anyway." He whispers suddenly and she realizes that she is barely listening to what he has to say because she is too busy staring at his eyes. "I was wrong and – well so are you about your emotional baggage."

He smiles and he has that little thing shining through his face and it's as if there's absolutely nothing to be scared of in this world. It's a strange thing to think but somehow – something in the way his lips stretch reminds her of the Fall and the way the golden leaves drop from the trees in that season. But then she remembers the things he's just said and she can feel her eyebrows crease.

"What do you mean?" She asks with a slight huff because how dared he listen to her speaking dumbly to her dog? "And – _My God,_ were you here the whole time?"

"No, I only heard the last bit – What I mean is – I might not know you yet but whoever the hell this Bellamy is – He shouldn't be your _emotional baggage_. And if he really is your friend – he'll understand when you tell him you love him – and – and the thing is, the moment you tell him, you get to feel better because you've finally gotten it out of your system."

"Are you sure you're a programmer and not – like, maybe Oprah or something?" Clarke asks with slight irritation dropping from her voice.

"Oh don't be so grumpy, doctor!" Murphy cackles good-naturedly. "I'm just trying to be your neighbor _and you friend_ too."

"You want to be my friend?" She lets out a nervous chuckle despite her will to remain cold and unaffected.

" _Clarke_ – are you for real?" He asks in a dull voice and she almost snarls at him.

"For God's sake, the entire building would like to be your friend, you just – you don't pay enough attention is all." He says with a soft smile and she almost gasps when the city lights reflect in his bright blue eyes.

Now she knows what it is – that thing shining through his sharp features: it's called sincerity and though it can be hurtful, it's also sort of nice because she now knows she cant trust him. She can trust that however ugly the truth is, he'll still throw it at her face.

But what has her hooked must be the blue in his eyes. It is strangely familiar and she definitely loves the look he has when she speaks to him so she thinks she has better smile.

And when she does, Murphy smirks in a way that has her laughing...

 **XXVI – Twenty-six**

She hasn't made a friend that easily in such a long time, probably ever since the sixth grade and the chubby little blue-cladded Octavia. And surprisingly enough, _it feels good_.

He comes to her apartment even though it's already past one in the morning and together they agree on the item that is going to make Bellamy cry. She shows him pictures of them together, pictures of her, Octavia and Bellamy riding bikes by the bay and Murphy takes time to examine the lawyer's style. He quickly guesses his favorite colors and outfits and after less than an hour, even though he has never met the guy before, he concludes that his unmistakable manliness is the key to finding the perfect gift.

Clarke likes Murphy's jokes and his little tips so she trusts his ideas and when they're about to part, she feels confident enough to ask him to be her date to Cassandra and Bellamy's wedding but only if he can take the whole _emotional-baggage thing_.

"You're not the only victim of unrequited love, you little brat." He says with a wink as he shuffles away from her front door and towards his own. "I have a long history of girls spitting the ' _I just don't see myself having a future with you'_ kinda crap – if anything I got me the motherload of all emotional-baggages."

Clarke laughs a loud and happy laugh but is quick to put her hand on her mouth, remembering that it's two and a half in the morning and the rest of the neighbors might be angry at her.

"God – you're so cute sometimes." Murphy chuckles in response and shakes his head, unlocking his door and stepping inside.

"Good night, mushy murphy." Clarke almost hollers when he's about turn away from her.

"A nick-name? Already?" He says with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, that's how lucky you are." Clarke says cockily and smirks evilly.

Murphy laughs at the face she pulls and blows her kiss, shutting the door closed.

But then she's still smiling as she stands by the entrance to her apartment because she thinks she loves the way this new neighbor makes her feel – and it's like – like there's really nothing to be scared of and nothing wrong to be so damn confident...

 **XXVII – Twenty-seven**

Introducing Murphy to her friends turns out be a tricky situation.

"God, you're ugly, uglier than I expected – yeah definitely." Raven says the moment she sees him sitting on the couch.

"And _you_ are grumpy – worse than Clarke, really." Murphy says in return and Raven huffs and looks away.

"Well, I think you're pretty normal, bud." Monty says when he comes bolting out of the kitchen, holding snacks and drinks against his chest. "But we'll have to do some background research just in case you happen to be a psychopath."

Murphy shakes his head and rolls his eyes, turning away from Monty and finding himself sitting right in front of Jasper.

"Yeah there's the little murder-look kinda stuff you have going on – in your eyes, I mean – yeah it's definitely your eyes." Jasper says with a grimace and creeps closer so can he examine the young man's face.

"That's not the murder-look, that's ugliness shining through his eyes – simple as that." Raven says and proceeds to laugh mockingly.

"Stop it you guys! You're scaring him." Clarke says worriedly when she walks out of her bedroom, holding her red satin dress against her chest and pushing her hair behind her ears.

"That's the idea actually." Jasper says. "What are good friends for?"

"Yeah, you need our protection and our approval." Monty says with a nod.

"And _we do not_ approve of that thing." Raven adds the final blow with a flick of her wrist. "I could touch him, test the waters and all for a better examination but no – even with a stick I wouldn't."

"Raven!" Clarke cries out desperately and then she sighs audibly. "You guys, you're gonna have to get used to him because we're going to be driving for more than two hours to get to Bellamy's place and you better be nice to him the whole time!"

She leans over the couch, grabs Murphy's hand in hers and pulls him up and then she thinks that Jasper is about to barf, Raven is close to spitting and Monty's face if of a very strange color, something like green.

"Yeah, yeah – let it sink in real good." Clarke says with a shrug and then they're gone, all of them getting down to Raven's minivan and ready to go celebrate Bellamy's thirty-fifth birthday.

But they don't listen to her, they keep being the ridiculously protective friends they are as they drive on the highway and when she sighs for the up-tenth time, Clarke prays to God that the journey to Wilmington will end sooner.

But then things don't really get better, if anything, it all grows really annoying and she is grateful for Monty's obsession with food because now she can at least pretend to be busy stuffing herself with his Dorritos while Raven and Jasper make up stories about Murphy's possible latest crimes.

 **XXVIII – Twenty-eight**

"It's not a friend-date." Clarke and Murphy speak at the same time and then they're laughing because Cassandra looks confused and intrigued.

"Of course it's a friend-date, that's all a guy as ugly as Murphy can get." Raven hollers from the kitchen and Clarke rolls her eyes and squeezes the young man's hand.

"No worries –" Murphy is quick to say when Cassandra grimaces again, "it's just Raven has had that instant crush on me and now she's trying to hide it by being overtly mean – quite the childish technique, really." He explains with a shrug and Clarke laughs at his mock-seriousness.

"Yeah – so Murphy here is quite the little Oprah. I'm sure you'll love him." Clarke says and bumps his shoulder with her own.

Cassandra looks at them curiously and shakes her head.

"Anyways," she says and pushes her bangs out of her face, "Zara's upstairs, she's been waiting for you guys to show up ever since I can remember – so please go already."

Clarke nods happily and lets Cassandra push her and Murphy in the direction of the staircase.

…...

"Clarke!" Zara squeals and lets go of her doll when her god-mother appears in the doorway.

She comes running at her and Clarke groans when she carries the little girl in her arms.

"My God, you're heavy now! How old are you?!" She asks even though she knows the little one's birthdate by heart.

"I'm like this." Zara says and pulls up three and then four fingers. "I am one, two, three and – and three and a half!"

Clarke laughs and shakes her head.

"Dada-Clarke, when do you come live _here_? Like Cassandra, you can stay! You can sleep in my room!" Zara says excitedly.

"Oh – honey, I can't, I have to stay in New York – I have work there." Clarke explains with a little smile and and Zara puts her two little palms on each side of her face.

"You can find work here, right dada-Clarke?" Zara asks with a hopeful smile.

Clarke is about explain that life is complicated and that she can never come live with them but when the little one's chubby hands feel warm and soft against her cheeks, she realizes she doesn't have the heart to disappoint the little girl so she nods and smiles in return.

"Yes, baby. Maybe one day, I can find work here." She says simply and hugs her close to her chest.

One of Zara's little fingers is actually annoying as it slips up her lips and almost gets inside her nose but Clarke is smiling still. And then Zara actually does become gross and Clarke almost gags with disgust but because the little girl is too cute for her own good, she laughs instead.

"What are you doing? Stop it!" Murphy exclaims with laugh when Zara pushes two fingers in Clarke's nostrils. "Oh – that's disgusting!"

Zara tries to tickle Murphy and dangles her little feet as she bends to the side, but Clarke holds her firmly and the little one bursts out of laughing.

After a little while, Clarke sighs and pushes the little fingers away, putting her back down on the wood-floor. She thinks she takes after Bellamy because ever since she can remember, he has been gross like that, coming up to her and trying to do stupid things like putting two finger up her nostrils.

"So, it is him?! The bad guy?" Zara asks suddenly and takes Murphy's hand in hers, examining is big big hands.

But Clarke gasps and turns around sharply.

" _The bad guy? Who told you that?_ " She asks and crouches down the little girl's level. "He's Murphy, O.K? And he is not a bad guy, he is my friend!"

"Aunty Raven and uncle Jasper and uncle Monty all said your new friend is _the bad guy_ and that he killed people and that he is wanted by the policemen and that he never takes showers and that..."

Clarke puts a hand over Zara's mouth, telling Murphy she's sorry and that she will speak to her god-daughter and thoroughly explain to her that Raven, Jasper and Monty are being stupid grown-ups and it was all just a joke.

…...

They all hide when Bellamy's car shows up in the driveway and it's all so exciting, everyone has come, everyone Bellamy knows and even though he hasn't met Murphy yet, Clarke is convinced that the two of them are going to love each other.

Unfortunately, she realizes she was wrong when they all stand up and scream "surprise". Because the thing is, Bellamy doesn't seem that excited. If anything, he remains frozen, standing in the threshold and even though he really is surprised and happy, there's something strange in his eyes when they land on her and trail down her body, resting on her hand as it holds Murphy's.

And in that moment, the little stupid pang in her heart shows up again and she thinks she might have to gag.

Fortunately, Bellamy does smile eventually and walks in with his arms wide and open for his little Zara to give him a hug first.

"Thank you guys! This is great!" He hollers when they all come closer, patting him on the back and wishing him a happy birthday.

They're all smothering him with kiss and hugs and then Clarke can barely see him because there's a thick group of friends around and she doesn't have the heart to go bolting through anyways so she simply shuffles away and towards the kitchen.

…...

The birthday party doesn't turn out as great as she would have liked it to be but it's still nice. For the most part, she spends the night dancing with Murphy and sadly enough it's not like Bellamy cares because he's too busy dancing with Zara and Cassandra. She knows it's stupid, the way her heart flutters when she sees him kissing his fiancée and she knows she shouldn't even dream of him feeling the least bit jealous of Murphy but still – sometimes she just can't help it. And now, she doesn't think she should stay the whole night...

"Do you want to go?" Clarke asks when the music shifts to a slow Celine Dion thing and she thinks she feels bored already.

"I think I might just get to the hotel – just so I can rest. I've had a tough week." Murphy says with a shrug.

Clarke nods and starts to pull him away from the living-room but she as she approaches the front door, someone grabs her shoulder and pulls her back and she gasps loudly.

"How dare you, princess!" Bellamy looks playful and curious but she can see the emptiness in his eyes and she doesn't like the way he looks at her because it's like he's done something wrong and he's blaming her for it.

"We were just tired and – we thought we'd go and get some sleep." She says uneasily and Murphy smiles kindly, nodding and patting Bellamy's shoulder.

"Truth though is – I'm much more tired than she is." He says amicably and grabs his jacket from the coat-rack. "So yeah – you should stay, Clarke. I'll be fine."

Murphy's being really sweet and thoughtful and he winks at her and shakes Bellamy's hand on his way out and it all seems so casual and cool but then Clarke realizes that she in fact really wishes to leave but Murphy can't even see it and turns on his heels and walks away.

"Common, princess! Let's get back inside." Bellamy says as they stand by the front porch, looking at Murphy running out of the street and towards the avenue to hop into the taxi he'd called to come get home.

But Clarke barely moves. She feels sorry and hollow and she thinks that she's stupidest person on the face of the planet because Murphy is so good for her but already, somewhere in her brain, she's comparing him to Bellamy.

…...

They dance at some point, the slow steady sort of dance which normally is boring to her but this is Bellamy and she realizes she really doesn't mind. They stop eventually and she sighs as they go sit on one of the large leather couches adorning the living-room.

For a moment she thinks that he's about to leave her and get back to Cassandra who's staring from across the room but he only creeps closer instead. And then her eyes grow twice their size because he asks her the question she hoped she wouldn't have to hear and she can feel her body stiffen.

"What's wrong, Clarke? You know you can tell me." He whispers quietly in her ear because she didn't answer him the first time.

And despite the loud music she can hear every word and she hates that his voice sounds so nice and homy.

"Nothing." She says automatically and he furrows his eyebrows. "I'm fine, really." She adds with a slight chuckle and she doesn't think she's ever been so fake but oh, well...

"You don't look it." He cries out over the noise and she thinks she sees slight anger in his eyes.

"Just tired, really – had a long and tough week at work." She finds enough strength to smile and even shuffles closer for him to hear.

"Yeah me too but I'm not pouting." He explains with a shrug, trying to look calm.

But he doesn't seem the least bit relaxed and when she looks at his jaw she knows he's gritting his teeth.

"Look, Bell – I don't want to start bickering, alright? So please just – let me go – I want to go to bed." She begs with a little smile and grabs his hand in hers, hoping to God that he'll let go so she can run out and down the street towards her old home.

"No." He says simply and her jaw drops. "If you go, I'll go with you."

She gasps and she thinks that her heart beats so fast she might just have a heart-attack.

"Go with – the – what ?" She stammers.

Bellamy doesn't notice but from the corner of her eye, Clarke notices Cassandra is still staring and she has that worried look on her face and it's as she's begging for Clarke to simply lay off and leave the man alone. And Clarke thinks that she might start crying if Cassandra keeps looking at her that way because _homewreaker_ is the last thing she'd ever want to be and she certainly doesn't want to tell Bellamy that she is heart broken over him and – Dear God, she has to get out of there.

"I'm so sorry, Bell. I really have to go." She says and jumps up to her feet, rushing to the front door and she doesn't even grab her coat on her way out because she can't risk Bellamy catching up to her.

The winter night air is is ice cold and she feels goosebumps as she runs across the street but no amount of bad weather or pain or whatever the hell else could possibly cure the void in her heart so she tries to run faster.

Her heels are uncomfortable and terrible to run in and she trips over something and falls, scratching her knees and palms against the asphalt and when she looks up at the moon and raises her hands under its shine she can see blood trickling down her fingers.

So she stops for a second. She remains still and she tries to breath evenly only to realizes that she left with a glass of soda in her hand and it broke when she fell and it must have cut her.

"Shit." She cries out and her voice reverberates throughout the empty street but she can still hear the faint music coming from Bellamy's house and she feels sick to her stomach.

…...

He didn't come after her and that's O.K. She was hoping he wouldn't and now she can finally breath and relax. Besides, she's quite happy to be in her old home again. _She really is_.

She's sitting by the sink in the bathroom now and because her mother is still at the birthday party and Murphy is probably asleep at the motel, she is the one taking care of own herself.

Sadly though, she realizes that for a long while now, she's been quite alone. And it used to be alright, and she used to be strong enough not to feel bad about it but now that she watches the blood wash away under the water in the sink, she knows she feels lonely and she does her best not to think much of it.

She quickly cleans her wounds and applies band-aids on them and then she's ready to go crash on her old bed. And she thinks that she must change into something else because her red sating dress did cost quite a lot of money and she should take it off and fold it neatly or something but she just can't bring herself to care. So she rolls into a ball, hugging her knees hard against her chest and she lets it all out.

She weeps and buries her face deep into the comforter hoping that the night will eventually clear the void away from her heart.

Sometime around three in the morning, just when she thinks she's about to fall asleep, the phone rings and she groans but she doesn't go pick it up. She holds the pillow closer against her chest and closes her eyes, praying for her mother to spend the night at Bellamy's so she can spend the rest of the light indulging in her misery.

Eventually, the phone goes to voicemail and she can hear her mother speaking.

"Honey – you must be asleep – I just wanted you to know, I'm still at Bellamy's and I'm spending the night here,"

Clarke lets out the breath she was holding and feels her body relax considerably.

"But tomorrow I'll be going to New Jersey with that friend I told you about? She's picking me up at Bell's – so I might not see you tomorrow but I'm sure we can get to do something together next weekend – what? Oh, you want to speak to her? This is her voice mail, I'm just leaving a message – No – Ah, alright, alright – Honey, Clarke, I'll see you soon! I'm sorry we didn't have much time tonight. But I promise we'll get to go out together sometime next week-end and – Oh shut it, Bellamy, I called her first – I'm sorry about that darling, the birthday boy is being annoying and – O.K, fine, I'm saying good bye, dear God! – Clarke, baby I love you. Don't forget to call me when you get back to New York – Bye bye honey."

Clarke smiles despite the terrible black whole inside her chest and then she's holding her breath again because she hears Bellamy's voice and he sounds so drunk.

"Shame on you Griffin! You left the night of my birthday and when I opened your gift – the best gift by the way! Well, you weren't there! How could you leave like that?! It's not like you to – Ouch, the hell, Raven? That freaking hurt – Clarke I'm sorry there's this troll trying to pry the phone away and – Seriously, Raven, hands off! – So what I was saying Clarke is, you missed the best part! I opened all of the gifts and the cross bike you got me and that designer black tuxedo you had made God knows where – they're awesome Clarke and I wanted to hug you and kiss you on the cheek – you know one of those really disgusting slimy kisses! But you weren't there! And then Zara looked for you when we tucked her to bed, she wanted you to read her a story, you idiot but guess what – You weren't there! You screwed up, Clarke! You screwed up, you screwed up, you screwed up! How many times would you like me to say it? Cause I can go on and on and on and by the way! I know you can hear me but you're to stubborn to pick up the phone and I know something's wrong and if you don't tell me what it is exactly I guess I'll just have to pry! And Lord help me, Clarke, I'm on to you! I'm so on to you, like you just have no – Aghrr, shit!"

"Clarke! This is Raven! You better not be banging Murphy I swear to God! You deserve better than that dirty little – hey! What the hell? – No! Get off, hey!"

"Hey Clarke, this is your very hot friend Jasper! I hope you're alright though I know you aren't because you looked like shit earlier when we ate the birthday cake and you didn't even dance with me and also you barely even tried to – you freaking asshole, I'm not done speaking yet and – Aghrrrr, NO!"

"Hello, my dear! This Jack your only black friend ever since some other guy Raven just told me about – what? I wasn't supposed to say that? Why? Oh shit – What? - Really, he's dead? - Oh shit – Oh shit! Clark I'm sorry I didn't know and also – I huuuh – I'm a little drunk and – oops was that a cup I just dropped and – Clarke, Clarke, I have to be quick they're attacking me – I love you Clarke, thank you for letting me be there for my baby girl and – and you know you are very pretty when you wear a dress instead of those ugly black jeans and those ugly black booths and those ugly – Haaaaaa! Noooooo – let me gooooo – STOP!"

"Hi, Clarke! This is Monty! And I'm pretty sure I'm the only sane friend you have left because the whole stock of wine is gone and I'm the only one who actually didn't drink a single cup of it. I'm so proud of myself, like you've no idea. Anyways, I wanted to simply tell you that you are a wonderful and beautiful woman and that women like you – well, you girl are like some statue of liberty with the light in your hand you know? And wherever you are that light will reach us and brighten our day 'cause that's how cool you are Clarke Griffin, hear that? So – I forbid you – You will not be sad! You will be happy in the morning when I show up at your doorstep with my burritos and my yummy snikers and we will have some Hunger Games marathon or something, alright?"

There's a very long pause and Clarke can't help but smile at her friends' goofiness and just when she thinks they've hung up Monty speaks again.

"I know you're there, I was just waiting for you to let this whole lot of information sink in. Try to get some sleep and take care of that beautiful dress, please! You look really hot in it so get your ass off that bed or couch or whatever and go put on some pajamas!"

And then he hangs up and Clarke actually does stand up to her feet, shuffling in the direction of her backpack so she can grab her pajamas and change into them.

And this time when she's just about to fall asleep, she's smiling and the tears have long dried.

TO BE CONTINUED...

 **I hope you enjoyed this long and very sad chapter :) Please, let me know what you thought of it all, your reviews make me smile ^^**

 **Only one more chapter to go and then the story will be over. So stay tuned!**


	3. Chapter 3

**XXIX – Twenty-nine**

Bellamy is such a hotheaded brat when his mind is set on something. He keeps nagging her about that birthday night, about how she fled and and didn't show up the following morning and she should have been less of a jerk. And in a way, he's right, she should have given him some sort of explanation but the truth is – she simply didn't have the strength to make up some lie, so she left.

Now, as she sits by the Hudson river, basking in the sun with an old book in her lap, she's looking at Murphy in wonder and for the first time ever since she met him, she notices how handsome he really is.

He's lying on the grass, face first into the brown blanket sprawled across the ground and the more she looks at him the merrier she feels. So she smiles and shuffles closer to him and when she bends forward her book slips away from her lap. The slight thumping noise wakes him up.

He groans and pushes the book away and Clarke chuckles quietly.

She especially likes the fact that he's never tried to seduce her, not even when she hugged him the morning after Bellamy's thirty-fifth birthday, not that night when she cried on his shoulder and told him the truth about her dead father and not even the day he saw her step out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around her body.

All he ever did was merely laugh and joke with her as if they'd been siblings, yet every time he looks at her, she can see that little something in his eyes and it makes her feel good.

And now that she watches him act all lazy and dumb, she realizes that he has become that special person – that constant and all around hilarious guy friend and the very funny thing is, the mere thought of ever losing him makes her stomach churn terribly.

"You know I think we'd make a hilarious couple." She says with a shake of her head and for a few seconds she is surprised by her own words.

"Oh shut up brat – I was dreaming about Penelope Cruz and you ruined the whole thing." Murphy barely flicks his wrist as he lies back on the grass.

He has been his usual goofy self from the beginning and she thinks that he doesn't even need to act all manly and tough to charm the opposite sex and she absolutely loves that, so she lies down on top of him and enjoys his warm and comfortable back.

"Seriously though – I want to try it – I mean the worst case scenario is we break up and laugh about it." She says and shrugs casually.

"My God!" Murphy exclaims and tries to prop himself up on his elbows but it's quite hard with Clarke slouched on top of him. "You want me to be your beard! My God!"

"What – no – I – I'm not gay." Clarke says with a giggle.

"That's not how I meant it – a beard is an excuse – a cover up, you know? And now you want me to be your fake boyfriend." He says with a nod and she thinks that he looks way too cute for his own good.

"But I think you're smart, funny and handsome and I like you – I like you a lot." She says with a pout and he groans.

"So you want me to have sex with you, Clarke?" He says with a nervous chuckle and she gasps and punches his arm.

"That's not what I was offering, you idiot!" She exclaims and pulls at her dress when he looks down at her legs.

"Yeah well – you know the drill, huh? Boys will be boys." He says casually and laughs at her.

"Oh shut up and be my boyfriend for a few days – at least up until Bellamy's wedding." She says with a very hopeful smile.

"OH MY GOD!" Murphy cries out and scratches his head as he tries to look away but Clarke's intense stare has him trapped.

And then she's squealing because she can see the surrender in his eyes.

"Fine." He answers with a long and heavy sigh. "Anything you ask, I guess and – Oh crap, I am immediately regretting that decision – I'm so stupid, it hurts."

And now she's hugging him and crushing him and he's shrieking because he isn't much of a big guy, in fact he's skinny and barely a few inches taller than her but she simply laughs in return and kisses him hard on the lips.

"I feel violated – much more importance should be given to man rape, I swear to God." He complains when they part and he's wiping at his mouth already but Clarke knows he's only trying to be funny so she kisses him again.

And this time he grabs her waist and lies on top of her, his lips never leaving hers.

 **XXX – Thirty**

It's Bellamy's wedding and everyone is looking merry and pretty and she knows she can't possibly screw up the way she did the night of his birthday.

"This is going to be so beautiful." Clarke's mother says when they reach the beach wedding arches and sit on the white bench displayed in the front row.

Clarke nods with a smile and Murphy kisses her forehead gently, smiling down at her and giving her a very knowing look.

Clarke is glad to have him there with her so she latches onto his arm, resting her cheek on his bicep; and then she's chuckling because the four year-old bridesmaid comes reeling in, a bit like a little white ball because of her white fluffy dress and all eyes are on her. Clarke is so proud of the little Zara that she finds herself cheering, watching as the girl stops by the stage with the band. She proceeds to climb over and then she showers the guests with her cute little golden flakes. J-G comes strutting after her and though he's getting older now, he still is a playful dog so he jumps up at the flakes, trying to catch them in his mouth.

Then it's Bellamy's turn and Clarke can feel her stomach doing somersaults already. He looks so confident as he walks down the empty trail in between the rows of benches and Clarke's grin fades as soon as he sets his eyes on her. He is so handsome with his hair coiffed to perfection and his grey tuxedo adorning his slender figure. He's nodding as if to show her that her presence means the world to him and she feels the familiar sweet little thing shake inside her heart. And – Oh God! She thinks that this happens to be worst than that stupid anniversary she attended a couple of years before.

And she thinks that she is such an idiot, swooning at the sight of her favorite man getting married to some insanely beautiful british woman. And the very worst part is, after all, maybe, _possibly_ , this is for the best and she has to be happy for her beloved friend and she should really fight the urge to stand up and scream for him to stop and never make it to the altar...

But the annoying truth is, no optimistic thought whatsoever could ever mend the emptiness settling deep in Clarke's chest. And when Bellamy stares up at the bride, his smile growing wider and brighter, the young Griffin feels her heart turn to rock.

So she takes a very deep breath and bites the inside of her cheek as she holds onto Murphy's arm. And _he knows,_ it seems. Murphy knows exactly how she feels because he's sneaking a hand around her west, pulling her closer and whispering reassuring things in her ear. And she thanks the lord for his warm presence.

…...

Now, because her heart is turning into that numb rock thing, everything goes on pretty well. Cassandra comes strutting like a Diva and everyone loves her and since Clarke has stopped _feeling,_ stopped sensing any sort of jealousy, has stopped caring actually – she is able to cheer for the red head when she comes to stand next to Bellamy. And then the two cute lovers swear to love each other until death and – Clarke spaces out somehow and remains in her own little imaginary land until Murphy nudges her shoulder.

"You have to give a speech, you're the best friend." He says and Clarke shakes her head, looking around her and realizing that everyone's waiting for her toast.

"Oh, hello – hi everyone." She says awkwardly when she stands up.

She lifts her cup and for a moment her hand is shaking but she quickly wills it to stop and remain steady and then she's speaking, the words flowing out of her mouth as if she's had some crazy long thing pre-written – but she hasn't and the truth is, she hates the lies that she is about to tell to the rest of the people looking up at her but then again, what else is she supposed to do?

"Bellamy and Cassandra – I couldn't be any happier for you today." She starts her speech with a brilliant smile but already she can't ignore the lump in her throat.

Still, she does her best to remain polite and happy-looking, painting a picture in her mind and imagining her heart as a white unbreakable rock.

"You don't just look good together – you are perfect for each other and every time I look at you – hugging and kissing and whispering things to each other – my heart flutters in my chest and I know it's cheesy and all but it's true."

Bellamy is looking at her in that strange and very beautiful way and she thinks she might just lose it if she keeps looking at his eyes so she turns her attention to Cassandra instead.

"Dear Cassandra. I have to be honest – from the first moment that I saw you I felt like crap."

Some of the guests laugh and others look at Clarke curiously but she keeps on speaking.

"The thing is – I knew you were a wonderful woman, a smart, and funny and all around beautiful woman and I felt threatened because I knew you and Bellamy would settle down eventually and I would have to be the – the less important woman and that's O.K. _Really_ , it is! Because at some point we all meet that special someone and – and I'm glad it's you Cassandra, I'm glad Bellamy chose you and I know now that I love you both, the two of you together is a picture I want to remember."

Some voice inside Clarke's head is screaming all sorts of things and she knows that she certainly doesn't mean the crap she's making up but it has to be done. And even though the picture of Bellamy kissing his bride is still a very painful sight she bites her lip and forces the thoughts away and out of her mind.

"So, please everyone, raise your glasses and take a good look at the two lovers because they definitely are – a sight to remember!"

The rest of the guests all clap and clink their drinks and the party gets started.

…...

One thing leads to another and Clarke ends up having so much more fun, lots and lots of fun because she's laughing at some stupid joke her mother just told her and when she turns on her heels to look for Murphy, a warm hand grabs her wrist and then she realizes Monty is helping her spin and dance while Jasper is doing something with Raven and they look awkward but they're still smiling and then Jack is laughing so hard at something Abigail says that he stumbles towards Clarke and almost knocks her off her feet.

And when Jack starts apologizing, Clarke simply smiles and grabs him by the shirt, dancing with him joyfully.

Sometime later Murphy is holding Clarke's waist and whispering things in her ear and she thinks she feels good – and – and _so wonderfully comfortable_.

But when she looks up at him again, to look for the twinkle in his eye, the one that had her liking him so easily – she realizes that what essentially makes a relationship worth the while is definitely non-existent. And the truth is, she _tried_ – _she really did try hard_ but sometimes love and lust don't actually combine in one thing... Sometimes it _clearly_ , simply doesn't happen...

So now she knows – she's positive that Murphy isn't the one and that's all right.

It's all right because she can see it in his bright blue eyes. She can see that he agrees, that they both knew this was no fairytale and it feels good to know that there's no pressure whatsoever, no engagement and no need for her to feel trapped or guilty...

Like she told him that afternoon by the Hudson river; one day, they'll just laugh as they reminisce their youth and that stupid little short-lived fake romance of theirs will be no more than a joke.

A harmless and yet fun joke.

 **XXXI – Thirty-one**

She tells him when the wedding is coming close to an end.

Murphy looks very thoughtful and he's so quiet that she can't guess what's going through his mind and it makes her feel terribly anxious.

Surprisingly enough, he smiles and shakes his head but Clarke doesn't know what to think so she starts apologizing, holding his hand firmly in hers and promising that he will always be her best friend. And there's that terrible lump in her throat – and her eyes start to water and just when she thinks that he is about to walk away, he gives her a sweet side hug and kisses her forehead, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear.

"I knew you liked someone else. So do I." He winks at her and she chuckles despite the weird feeling at the pit of her stomach.

"And I know no one can top the effect he has on you –" Murphy whispers in her ear for the rest of their friends not to hear. "I'm glad you chose to be honest with me and simply ended things before any of it got too serious."

He's smiling and Clarke can finally breath, instant relief reaching her insides and allowing her shoulders to drop comfortably.

…...

Somehow when the guests start to leave she loses sight of Murphy.

She tries to find him. She looks for him everywhere on that goddamn beach and just when she thinks she's giving up, she sees him with Raven. They're walking by the white boulders lining the side of the beach and when Clarke squints to get a better look, she realizes that they're holding hands and that they look strangely close and intimate and she finds herself laughing.

A warm hand grabs her wrist, very softly so and when she turns around, she sees Bellamy, towering over her and smiling widely.

"Looks like Raven and Murphy are getting along better and better." He says with a chuckle.

"I think they're dating now." Clarke says with a genuine smile and Bellamy furrows one eyebrow, looking confused.

"But Murphy is – he's your boyfriend, isn't he?" Bellamy asks and shakes his head.

"He's just my very good friend, is all." Clarke says with a sigh.

And when Bellamy looks her in the eye, she turns away from him and stares at the twilight casting a purple glow over the beach and she knows that she likes what she sees, she likes that Murphy and Raven are finally admitting their feelings to each other.

It is particularly strange to witness the love happening between the two of them though because now Clarke realizes that another one of her best guy friends has found his perfect match and she should be happy for them – _she has to be_ but somehow, she isn't – not really, not entirely.

She is not upset either. She's quite content, standing there, watching them kiss in the distance. And when Bellamy's shoulder grazes hers, she feels nostalgic and giddy inside. Murphy and Raven's story is a remainder of her childhood years, of a wild Bellamy always playing tricks on her and somehow driving her crazy and now – now she thinks she's quite pathetic, wishing he would pay her such attention again even if it meant getting into fights and arguing all day everyday.

Perhaps it's the wedding and the merriness and the romance swaying in the air that has her feeling so strangely lonely but despite her will to remain happy, she feels that bittersweet hollowness – she hates to admit it but she wishes she had that one special one person in the world that you're allowed to keep selfishly to yourself – _never to share and never to feel bad about_.

She wishes she could claim she had that very one thing but she doesn't – She wishes it could be Bellamy, but he's not, _clearly_ – so for now her friends and family will have to do.

And maybe, possibly, she doesn't even need to have a special someone... Perhaps she can live alone for the rest of her life? She's managed just that so far so why start bothering now?

Bellamy grabs her hand and intertwines his fingers with hers and she is jolted out of her misty thoughts.

For a second she is surprised as she looks down at their hands, her lips twitching into a happy smile despite the hole in her chest.

Bellamy doesn't say anything and neither does she.

Together, they watch the sun set, eyes fixed on the horizon and strands of golden and raven hair swaying gently as the wind blows across the shore. They're simply basking in the peaceful silence and enjoying the beautiful different shades of colors darkening in the sky but Clarke has that sudden rushing feeling.

It's as if she's losing something – definitely letting go of an important era of her life and so she latches onto Bellamy's hand, craving his bittersweet proximity and when she looks up at him, she could swear that he feels the exact same way because his eyes are watery and his smile looks so wistful.

"You gave such a beautiful speech." He says and she doesn't feel the need to look up at him anymore. "Thank you for coming. Thank you for everything."

She keeps staring at the disappearing sun and then she lets got of his hand and steps ahead and closer to the beach, letting her feet be kissed by the salty water washing over the sand.

"I love you, Bellamy." She says with a sigh.

And when she turns around, she notices Cassandra staring from afar but this time she ignores her. She knows she has to tell Bellamy all the things she wished she had told him sooner.

"I have always loved you and I always will." She adds when she turns back towards the horizon and she's barely looked up at him. "No matter who you're with, no matter who's your wife. _I will always truly love you._ "

The beach is sparkling under a dark night sky now and when she finally looks up, when Clarke really stares at Bellamy's eyes, she notices the shy and little crescent moon reflecting in his dark brown orbs and she feels at ease with the world.

She feels so bittersweet and fuzzy inside that she gives Bellamy a little smile and brushes the lock of dark raven hair away from his eyes.

" _Please, remember that."_ She whispers quietly.

She doesn't wait for a reaction or an answer, she simply adjusts his tie and pats his chest and then she's walking away, feeling free and relieved. Murphy was right, she realizes when she gets back to her mother and pulls her towards the moonlit beach – _it feels so much better once you get the emotional-baggage out of your system._

And less than ten minutes later she's laughing so loud, her mother nudges her and asks her what has her so hyped but Clarke only nods her head to the faint beat of the song and pulls her mother closer, dancing and whispering in her ear.

"It's a wedding night, mom! Just be happy!"

And Abigail is happy and for the first time in a very long time, Clarke sees the unconditional motherly love shining through her eyes and she feels blessed.

 _She feels so blessed and loved._ Loved by her family, her friends and her own liberated self.

 **XXXII – Thirty-two**

Several months pass and Clarke eventually lets it sink in. She can finally deal with the fact that Bellamy and Cassandra are married and when she sees pictures of them with Zara in the middle smiling and pulling two thumbs up, she thinks that they make such a cute little family and she finds herself smiling too.

G-J, her favorite and only little pet is growing older, so he doesn't act as excited as he used to but that's O.K. Clarke is growing older too, she's turned thirty-two less than a month ago and when she gets home this late saturday evening she thinks that she could use a cute and simple movie night with her friends so she can relax on her short time off work. Raven and Murphy don't agree but she holds her ground because she's sick and tired of the whole partying thing and she is so exhausted with work that she simply wishes to sleep throughout the whole weekend.

Abigail is spending more and more time in New Jersey because she's met a bunch of artsy women the same age as her and they're having that special trip coming and they've planned it such a long time ago that she has to decline the movie night invitation. Clarke is fine with her mother's decision and though she misses her, she's very happy to know that she's making such friends and getting to see the world again, so she wishes her a wonderful weekend and tells her to take good care of herself before hanging up the phone.

Bellamy says he can't come because he's going on a business trip soon and much work must be done before he leaves. He is a lawyer again and not the mayor of Wilmington anymore so he has gone back to the difficult cases and has less and less time to come visit her. Cassandra and Zara can't come either but Clarke doesn't ask any questions.

She knows that Cassandra is purposely staying away and avoiding her as much as humanly possible. Ever since Clarke told Bellamy she loves him, Cassandra has changed into that cold and unaffected woman.

Clarke hasn't helped the situation much in the mean time. In fact, one cold night, she only worsened it all by accusing Cassandra of bad parenting, creating a tantrum and scaring both Bellamy and Zara away.

"Clarke, I think you should leave." Bellamy had said that night, his eyes looking darker than usual.

Clarke had meant to retort but the sight of a crying Zara had caused a sudden guilt to surge through her so she said nothing. Looking down at her feet, the blond simply realized that she was not much welcome there anymore. She had to leave them alone.

And the sad thing is, it was unfair – Bellamy shouldn't have to deal with such a stupid situation, he had enough on his hands with his job, he didn't need more stress with this friends and family and he looked so tired that night that Clarke didn't have the heart to explain – she didn't have the heart to fight with him either. She cared so much about him that she worried about him all the time.

But before any of the drama could escalate, before the whole thing could ever take a toll on her, Clarke had left and decided to simply stay away.

She's stopped visiting and though it brakes her heart to be so far away from Zara, she thinks all is well as long as Bellamy's little family is healthy, as long he himself is happy.

So it's just her and her goofy friends that cold saturday night. And it's O.K if she misses Bellamy, Zara and Abigail, she knows she'll still have the real goody sort of weekend because she'll have Jasper, Monty and Raven and Murphy with her and they will have fun because staying in bed and watching old movies is such a wonderful way to waste away your free time.

 **XXXIII – Thirty-three**

Winter fades away at the expense of spring and one late evening, Clarke realizes she's been spending such time at the hospital that it's become quite pathetic – so much so that she's starting to feel like those no-life workaholics.

Late after she's gotten home, she's still working, thinking of ways to improve her schedule and when she looks down at her attire she isn't surprised to see that she still is in her scrubs.

And though she has just come home after a caesarian surgery on a twenty year-old girl and her brain won't shut off, she knows she's tired and she has to find some way to force her eyes closed.

So in desperation, she takes a slipping pill, promising herself that it's one little exception and she won't use it ever again. Thankfully, the drug works out pretty well and by the time she steps out of the shower, she's so tired that she barely has the energy to change into her pajamas.

She puts on her most comfortable panties and throws on some random tank top and then she falls heavily on her bed, face first into the warm comforter but just as she thinks she's falling asleep, her cellphone rings and for a moment she thinks she'll let it go to voicemail.

The person on the other end of the line is quite annoying though, so they keep calling again and again and eventually, Clarke looks up and notices Bellamy's picture flashing on the screen and though she's cursing she finds enough strength to crawl away from the bed.

In a terribly bad mood, she stumbles sleepily in the direction of her desk and grabs the phone, taking the call.

"Bell, this had better be important." She says in a sleepy voice.

She doesn't even have the energy to sound annoyed and she quickly sprawls back across her bed and pulls at her blanket, snuggling and groaning too because Bellamy is taking such a long time to answer.

"Hey, you but-called me or what?" She asks and thinks she might as well hang up on him because it's already 3 AM and she is exhausted and she has had a terrible week.

"Alright, I'm hanging up." She says after another moment of silence but when she's just about to pull the phone away from her ear, she hears a feeble little whimper.

"Bel – Oh, God – Is this – Zara is that you?" Clarke asks and she is hardly able to stay awake as she rubs her eyes.

"Clarke?" The child whispers on the other end of the line.

"Hey, honey? What the – why aren't you asleep? What are you doing with uncle Bell's phone?" Clarke says quietly.

"I – I – can you help me?" Zara stammers and Clarke can hear her sobbing softly.

"I will try my best." Clarke promises. "What's wrong, love?"

"It's daddy Bellamy." Zara says dejectedly. "He's so sad."

"What? How do you know?" Clarke asks with a sigh.

"Because – I can see it." Zara says confidently.

"What – what'd you mean by – you can see it? Is he crying?" Clarke asks and she's so sleepy that it seems she doesn't have much strength left to speak coherently.

"No, he's not. He looks – he looks normal." Zara answers.

"Then he's fine." Clarke says with a shake of her head and lets her head fall back against the pillow, getting ready to fall asleep. "He's probably just – just – little tired – sleep, love."

"No, you don't understand. I can see it, it's there – it's in his eyes." Zara says gloomily.

"What?" Clarke whispers weakly and fails to fight the urge to fall asleep and already her eyelids are so heavy she can't keep her eyes open.

"He's sad so he leaves all the time – and then I have to stay with Cassandra and I don't like it, aunty Clarke. Do you understand?" Zara says with another barely audible sob but the sleeping drug is causing Clarke's brain to shut off so easily, she can barely hear any of her words.

"Daddy Bellamy is gone all the time," Zara is now speaking rapidly, barely stopping to breath, "and then there's this big guy – Cassandra's friend, and I don't like him. He always wants to play with me but he's old, he's a grown up and I don't like his games – because they hurt and he always asks me to play this weird – I don't know – he always says we have to take our clothes off – If I say no, he gets angry – I don't understand and I don't like it – it – it really hurts, aunty Clarke."

Clarke is gone – her brain has eloped to some other imaginary land and her eyes are closed and her hand is letting the phone drop down to the carpeted floor. Despite her will to stay awake, she has long fallen asleep.

Now Zara is left to cry on the end of the line, begging for her godmother to wake up. But Clarke never responds and the five year-old hangs up eventually.

 **XXXIV – Thirty-four**

The little Zara doesn't mention the bad guy ever again and without any remainder, Clarke is left to forget about that night call. Life goes on and Zara's cry for help goes unnoticed.

A whole passes and Clarke realizes that she has been working more than she ever did before, drowning herself again in her long list of surgeries but around then end of spring, she thinks she really needs to do something drastic this time, she knows she should slow down and start planning different ways to change her life completely.

After all, she's thirty-three now and she is still single and she's also – sadly – still a virgin. So she thinks that she needs more action in her life. She needs to be more useful, she needs to accomplish more. In fact she stars checking all of the information available about humanitarian missions with the hospital. She believes that she can do better than fix people in her country and since she has enough money to live on for several years, she is convinced charity is a great idea.

She knows that healing people in poor ruined countries is something that will make her mother proud, something that will cause both Daddy and Wells to smile down at her from heaven. Oh, and Octavia – bright and big-hearted Octavia would be so proud of her too.

Clarke smiles at the thought of a mission outside of the USA. She dreams of little children in need of her, healing thanks to her help and who knows? Perhaps her destiny lies in some other land? Perhaps leaving is what she should have done a long time ago?

These thoughts keep her going, they have her waking up contentedly with a smile on her face.

 **XXXV – Thirty-five**

Clarke eventually makes time for her friends and family.

She goes hiking with her mother some weekends, and then on other occasions, she goes out with Raven and Murphy or Jasper and Monty and it feels good. Sometimes she even has enough energy to go partying but the morning after she's usually close to dead.

That's what happens to her on the first day of summer. It's past noon already and because she spent the night partying at Jasper and Monty's, she's barely stepped away from the bed that already she has a headache. Still, she's so serene and happy with her future plans that she barely minds the little pain.

She grabs painkillers from the shelf in the bathroom and swallows them with a cup of water, all the while smiling and guessing her friends' reactions when she tells them about her willing to leave the country for a mission. She grabs a bag of muffins from the cupboard in the kitchen and tries to get back to bed so she can watch some chick flick as she eats the chocolate-filled pastry but she steps on her phone when she stops by her nigh-stand and she groans.

She remembers some persistent ringing. She remembers seeing Bellamy's face flashing on the screen of her cellphone and she knows she should have taken the call but with all the drama that happened with Cassandra, she rarely feels like talking to him.

Besides, with time, part of Clarke has grown to resent Bellamy – she just can't bring herself to forgive him for always choosing work over his friends and family. It has gotten so bad that he barely spends enough time in his own home, traveling constantly and looking so tired the rare times he actually comes visit her or the guys in New York. Something is definitely not right but Clarke is tired.

She is tired of trying again and gain – she is tired of being the one giving and not receiving much in return, she is tired of calling or inviting him over only for her proposals to be declined. There just always seemed to be something more important. Something work related, something Cassandra's folks related. And Clarke is so sick of it.

 _But then a thought strikes the blond surgeon and she gasps as she looks down at her phone._

What if Bellamy hadn't been the one calling?Clarke thinks with a withering look. She has to check her phone, just in case something happened at the Blakes' and Zara is still waiting for her to call back. Besides, the girl is now six years old, she is old enough to know that Clarke doesn't have time for jokes so if something really is wrong – Clarke doesn't want to jump to conclusions and unlocks her phone instead, checking her missed calls.

There are three. One is from Jasper, another is from Monty and the last one is from Bellamy. She choses to listens to Bellamy's first and is surprised to hear Zara sobbing desperately.

" _Aunty Clarke! I know you're a doctor and you're very busy and tired and you couldn't answer last night when I called but – I – I don't know what to do – I only have one extra mommy and it's you – I don't like Cassandra, you know I don't like her? Right? Right, Clarke? She's – she does things only she likes– sometimes it's like – like she hates me and only likes Bellamy and not me – and then the other day her friend came – he's a big big guy and he's scary and – I told you about him a long time ago but you fell asleep – I don't know if you remember – and daddy Bellamy doesn't know he comes to see me and Cassandra and – sometimes, this big big buy gets really angry because I don't want to play the games he wants to play with me..."_

 _Zara stops whispering and breathes heavily._

Clarke puts a hand on her chest, holding her breath. She has a very bad feeling gnawing at the pit of her stomach and she prays to God that Zara is only being dramatic and that there's nothing to worry about but then...

" _Clarke, I have to hide in the closet, I think Cassandra is awake now. Bellamy is still asleep, he works so much, he can't even play with me... I stole his phone and – I have to hide, now."_

Zara whispers so quietly that Clarke can barely hear her words.

" _You know there's this big big guy I just told you about? He's Cassandra's friend, he comes when daddy Bellamy is not home but I don't like him. He likes to play weird games and sometimes it hurts – I tried to tell Cassandra but she said that I just imagine things and that all kids like to imagine crazy things which are not true but Clarke... He likes to be naked and he wants me to be naked too and then – and then it hurts, the things he does – they really hurt..."_

Zara lets out a terrible hiccup and for a very long and painful five seconds she holds in a scream and then tries to speak again. And in the meantime, Clarke has let go of her muffins and they all fall down and scatter across the carpeted floor but she doesn't care, she's too busy trying to breathe and everything around her starts to spin and she thinks her heart is seriously just about to stop.

" _Clarke – Clarke, I have to hurry."_ Zara says on the other end of the line. " _Clarke, I think Cassandra is coming but – but don't forget, please Clarke – this is our little secret, O.K? Don't tell daddy Bellamy, he is so sad, you can't tell him."_

Now Clarke knows she's having a panic attack because she definitely can't breath. And her limbs are freezing so she can't move, she can only fall to her knees with her hands clutching at her tee-shirt and her head shaking frantically.

"No, no, no, no – please, no." She keeps repeating over and over again.

She can't believe what she's just heard, she doesn't want to...

She doesn't like the thoughts running through her head and she thinks she might just start vomiting so she hopes to God that this is all a misunderstanding or some sort of terrible nightmare.

And soon enough, maybe, possibly, she will wake up?

 **XXXV – Thirty-five**

Less than two days after that strange phone call from Zara, Clarke is gone and on her way to Wilmington. She takes her god daughter with her and drives her back to New York, telling Cassandra that all is well but all the while cursing under her breath and hating the woman vehemently.

Bellamy's already gone on another one of his Goddamn business trips and it's really _really_ hard not hate him because how could he be so indifferent to Zara's cries for help?

Clarke tries to calm down when she brings Zara to her workplace. She tries to think about one thing at a time and she takes her to one of the empty rooms by the emergency ward.

Fortunately, Abigail and Raven are here to help, so together, the three of them examine the six year-old girl's frail body.

"What did you tell Cassandra and Bellamy?" Abigail asks.

"I told Cassandra I had tickets to an amusement park and it was a wonderful opportunity for Zara and I to spend time together – Bellamy doesn't even know, he's on a business trip and his cellphone kept going to voice mail anyways." Clarke says uneasily as she helps her god-daughter take her clothes off.

"Do I really have to do all this?" Zara asks in a shaken whisper and Clarke feels her heart sink inside her chest.

"Yes, honey." Abigail says gently. "We need proof to keep the big bad guy away."

"We're doing more than that. Mother freaking asshole is going to jail." Raven says through gritted teeth and Abigail glares at her from across the stretcher.

Clarke ignores the two women's silent disagreement and runs one gloved hand over the dark bruises on Zara's thighs.

"Zara, love. Aunty Raven is a doctor too and she is going to take a look down there, just to make sure the mean guy didn't brake anything, alright?." Clarke says carefully and looks down at Zara, giving her a reassuring little smile.

Zara nods quietly, hardly understanding the current situation and the innocence in her eyes causes Clarke's heart to skip a bit.

"Zara, I'm going to need you to open up your legs a little, can you do that for me? I'll be very gentle, it won't hurt at all." Raven whispers quietly and the blue-eyed girl obliges but the anxiety shows in her features and Abigail grabs her hand in hers, rubbing her palm soothingly.

"It's going to be, O.K. Honey, you're going to be safe now." She says and smiles but the serenity doesn't quite reach her eyes.

Clarke feels her stomach churn terribly at the sight of it all and she thinks that for the first time every since she enrolled in the medical field, she feels sick – horribly so.

"Do you mind if I just go out for a minute? I'll be right back." She says uneasily and turns on her heels.

She rushes out of the room and runs through the halls, all the while holding her breath because she can feel the tears beginning to form in her eyes and she knows that she can't possibly cry, not in front of the whole staff. By the time she's outside, she realizes she still has her plastic gloves on and when she looks at her covered hands she feels herself gagging and then before she even has time to hide behind some bush, she's throwing up.

She's coughing and spitting bile and the people passing by are sending her curious looks but she can't fight the nausea and for a few seconds, she is so disgusted with the thought of Cassandra acting normal and unconcerned that she finds herself tearing at the plastic gloves and throwing them angrily in a nearby trash can.

 _All this time_ , Clarke realizes with a painful hiccup. All this time, Zara has been calling for help – she has been molested by Cassandra's friend over and over again and yet – none of them saw it coming. Neither Bellamy, nor Abigail and certainly not Clarke. How could they all have been blind to it? How could have Clarke missed the signs too?

 _Zara had been right, Clarke realizes with much guilt._

She should have moved to Wilmington. She should have lived with her in that goddamn house – she should have saved her from the pedophile...

Clarke doesn't waste more time thinking. She pulls her phone out of her pants' pocket and calls Octavia's old boss.

"Hello." The woman sounds sleepy and Clarke bites her lip because she completely forgot that it was 11PM already.

"I'm sorry to bother you – hum, Mrs. Blackwell." She says nervously and hopes to God that she will have de decency to hear her plea.

"Clarke? Clarke Griffin?" The woman asks.

"Yes – I'm really sorry to call at such an hour but – it's Octavia's daughter, you said you'd always be willing to help if anything..." Clarke starts in a shaky voice.

"Did something happen?" The woman asks and she sounds much less sleepy all of a sudden, the urgency sounding clearly through her voice.

"She hum – she is..." Clarke starts sobbing despite her will to remain calm. "She's a victim of child molesting – I just had her examined and – "

"Who's the bastard?" Mrs. Blackwell cries out and Clarke puts a hand over her mouth for a minute, trying to calm down.

"That's the thing – we can't tell for sure – we need – we'd like to investigate and perhaps – perhaps catch him red-handed."

"Where are you?"

"I'm at the hospital, the one I work at."

"I'll be right there – let me just grab a jacket and I'll be with you in less than ten minutes." The woman says reassuringly.

"Thank you, Mrs. Blackwell." Clarke whispers and grabs at her shirt because her heart is starting to calm down – slightly so.

" _Please, call me Indra_." The woman says and Clarke can hear the smile in her voice.

"Thank you, _Indra_." Clarke says gratefully.

She realizes there's something about that boss that has her nodding calmly. And when _the woman_ promises to have the culprit held in no time, Clarke thinks that things might get better – probably only a little, of course but – in any case, the blond haired doctor needs a little something to hold on to for now – for hope.

Surely, _Indra_ can and will help them catch the bastard and – and then with Bellamy's skills, they can have the pedophile rotting in prison for as long as possible – _preferably for ever_.

 **XXXVI – Thirty-six**

Clarke can't look through the medical file. She can only stare at it or put it safely away in one of those drawers back home. She's afraid of the things she might see in it and she is convinced that if she witnesses more than what she saw the night she examined Zara, she will never be able to look the little girl in the eye ever again.

Her first thought when she gets home that night is to get back to Wilmington. Just so she can walk up to that perfect little porch – just so she can pull that mahogany door open and then she dreams of punching Cassandra square in the face and she knows she will never hesitate. She will pounce on the woman's face for as long as she pleases and she doesn't even care about the consequences of her actions.

And with a very long sigh, Clarke realizes she is capable of really anything when it comes to Zara's well being – almost as if – as if she were her own daughter now. _And maybe she really is her daughter?_ Maybe Clarke should have been more daring. Maybe just maybe, she should have walked up to the wooden altar by the beach on that stupid wedding day and simply demanded that Bellamy listens to her and that he doesn't ever marry Cassandra.

But it's too late now – the harm is already done and there's no preventing it.

Now all Clarke can do is fix her – fix Octavia's little girl and protect her from any other possible source of harm.

 **XXXVII – Thirty-seven**

As soon as Bellamy gets home from his business trip, Clarke is quick to call for him to come to her place, swearing that Cassandra can't be trusted. Bellamy sounds skeptical on the phone but he agrees to take the first train to New York nonetheless.

Clarke knows that Cassandra has now grown suspicious and might have guessed what is to come with Indra firing a lawsuit already and her private detectives nosing around Bellamy's house back in Wilmington but she can't bring herself to call the red-haired woman. She can't face her because she knows what she is capable of and she is scared of the things she could do to her.

Together, Bellamy, Indra and her listen to the voicemail left by Zara that dreadful night. They all sit cross-legged in Clarke's living-room and remain quite as she clicks the play button on her computer.

"The first thing I did after I heard what Zara said was making sure to safeguard the voicemail." Clarke says and nods at Bellamy before Zara's voice can be heard through her laptop's speakers

" _You know there's this big big guy I just told you about? He's Cassandra's friend, he comes when daddy Bellamy is not home but I don't like him. He likes to play weird games and then sometimes it hurts – I tried to tell Cassandra but she said that I just imagine things and that all kids like to imagine crazy things which are not true but Clarke... He likes to be naked and he wants me to be naked too and then – and then it hurts, the things he does – they really hurt..."_

Bellamy stops the recording, not wanting to listen to the rest of it and his face is so red and pale all at the same time that Clarke can't tell if he's angry or sick.

"With all of the evidence we have we could have both your wife and mister Wallace locked up for a good while." Indra says with confidence.

"Good." Bellamy says weakly, his jaw contracting and his eyes staring into space. "I'll let you two take care of all this, in the mean time I'll be fixing a little something in Wilmington."

And then he's up on his feet, running to the front door of Clarke's apartment and neither Indra nor Clarke can stop him.

 **XXXVIII – Thirty-eight**

Clarke reaches Wilmington sometime after Bellamy but she can't tell exactly how much earlier he showed up there. She can't even think of the damage he might cause if he runs into Cassandra or her pedophile-friend. She can't even see his car anywhere near his place and yet she wonders, where else could he possibly be?

She barely parks her own vehicle in the driveway and hops out in a rush, running up to the large front door and pushing it open forcefully.

She's expecting the worse. But when she enters the Blakes' house, all she sees is emptiness.

What used to be the large and luxurious living-room is now a vacant space. Gone is the furniture. Gone are all the stuff which used to fill the whole two stories-house and it's all so crazy that Clarke finds herself crouching down. Sitting on the floor with her legs sprawled before her, she looks down at her moist hands, and then she's brushing them against her dark jeans to get rid of the sweat.

She feels sick. Her stomach is doing some crazy flip flop and when she looks up again at the stiffening emptiness all around her, she thinks she might very well vomit so she jumps up to her feet and rushes out of the house.

For a very long moment she stops. She seats down on the grass and she stops thinking, she stops wondering. She closes her eyes and simply breathes.

Exhaling and then inhaling quietly because calming down is the best thing she can do now.

Clearly, Cassandra saw it coming. Clearly, she's gone, and the worst part is: she's taken everything away with her.

 _What a bitch. Clarke thinks ruefully._

"What a total bitch." She says out-loud and her voice reverberates throughout the quiet and empty street.

She looks down at her trembling knees and she realizes that it feels good to say the words she's been dying to say for a very long while now.

It feels right – her hating Cassandra deep inside, _it feels very much right_ and yet nothing good can come out of such hatred. And she knows it, and she expects that anger and regret won't help her much but she doesn't care.

For now she allows herself to hate and despise the whole wide world. She doesn't repress the dark thoughts running through her mind.

And for the first time in her life, Clarke gives up on hope. Disheartened by the sudden and unexpected turn that hers and Bellamy's lives have taken, she lets her head droop, hiding her face in her hands.

And then she cries quietly.

 **XXXIX – Thirty-nine**

He father's voice comes to the rescue. His beautiful face appears in her imagination and he is telling her not to give in to pessimism. He is reminding her of her very first ambition: _to fix people's hearts and to fix people in general because sometimes someone can be dead but not quite_. And then despite the situation she finds herself smiling a little. After all, if she should behave the way her father wants her to, she has to keep hoping and believing that things can and will get better. Wells would be disappointed too, he would call her chicken and kick her ass to get her to do something.

But the most important remainder is probably Octavia. She owes it to her. She owes her a lot of things really, but above all she must take care of her brother and the little daughter she left behind.

So with a very long sigh, Clarke eventually gets up to her feet.

And when she wipes the tears away, she feels somewhat rested.

So she starts to look for him, spending the rest of the day driving around town, checking several different places, each time hoping desperately to see him but in vain...

When night falls, she starts to give up hope again.

But then a terrible idea crosses her mind. She hasn't even tried to look for him in those bad places... She hasn't even wondered whether Bellamy could be in some dark and dangerous neighborhood or some cheap and ugly bar – and then it hits her like a cold hard slap.

 _Some ugly bar!_ A voice echoes in her head and she realizes she knows exactly where Bellamy is.

She finds him. Around midnight, she notices him through the window of the O'Flaherty's, the single most notorious bar in the entirety of little Wilmington – the sort of place which Bellamy used to hate and despise deeply.

She knows he's drunk before she even steps foot inside the dark smoke-filled interior but she walks in without the least hesitation.

She hates the place, she knows it's full of conservative macho jerks and she expects one of the assholes to even try and grope her at one point but she doesn't care, she only has eyes for Bellamy's slumped figure.

He is at the bar, sitting on a high stool and he has let his head drop on the counter. Clarke's heart aches at the sight of it all, and she thinks that for the very first time in her life, she gets to see what a wrecked Bellamy really looks like. And it terrifies her.

She is not surprised to discover several empty shots gathered right by her friend's head and she forces herself to look away, scrunching up her noise and doing her best to ignore the terrible stench of liquor. She sighs when a few men whistle at her but she doesn't pay them the attention they seem to crave. She holds her head high instead and grabs her friend's arm.

"Bell." She whispers near his temple. "Bell, common, let me take you home."

He barely looks up at her and she gasps at the sight of his complexion. He is so different, he is like a ghost and already a massive black eye causes his usually angelic face to look terribly disfigured.

"Oh, Bell." Clarke says wistfully and brushes the few locks of hair away from his forehead. "What did you do?"

She doesn't expect an answer, her words are more of a statement than a question anyway and it's not like Bellamy is sober enough to explain. If anything, it's as if he doesn't even see her, as if his dark brown eyes are looking right through her and she hates it. It hurts too much to see him so vulnerable.

"Here." She whispers reassuringly and starts to lift up his arm, wrapping it around her neck and helping him get off the stool. " _I am taking you home._ "

 **XXXX – Forty**

He looks so peaceful now and he still is horrendously defenseless but at least he's safe. He's with her now, he's right before her and as she pulls the comforter over him she thinks that she will never let go of him ever again. She will look after him and if mrs. Right shows up, well she'll first have to go through Clarke because there's no way in hell that Bellamy is ever going to give himself to some bitch ever again.

Clarke just won't let it happen. Period.

…...

When She is done with her phone calls and is ready to go to bed, a slight moan catches her attention and like a worried mother she rushes to Bellamy's side. He's stirring and his eyes are half-open but he's still drunk and wrecked so Clarke smiles down at him to reassure him as best she can.

"Clarke." He whispers quietly and it sounds like a sad sob.

"Hey – you're alright – You're here with me." Clarke says and takes his hand in hers.

"I'm the – ah – worst person in the world." Bellamy croaks out and gulps loudly, desperately trying to blink back the tears.

"No." Clarke shakes her head softly. "You're not. You're just..."

Bellamy squints up at her as she frowns and she realizes that she has better not finish her sentence. He looks too crushed for this – she shouldn't even speak to him and he should get some sleep and eventually sober up. Maybe then, in the morning, they can have the talk.

"Just what, Clarke?" Bellamy asks and she shakes her head again.

"Never-mind – just rest, sleep, will you?" Clarke smiles and pulls the comforter higher up his chin.

"Just what, Clarke? Go ahead – say it, huh? Just what?"

Clarke startles when Bellamy glares at her vehemently.

"I – I just – just want you to rest." Clarke says uneasily but already Bellamy is shuffling away from her, looking hurt and suspicious.

"No, Clarke – don't be like them, don't be a hypocrite." Bellamy is rocking frenetically now.

"Bell, please, calm down. We can talk about all this tomorrow." Clarke says soothingly.

And what does he mean by _them_ , anyway? She thinks as she stares down at him.

"Just say it, already – I'm a fucked up asshole...I'm not a father, not a husband." Bellamy cries out with a weak and angry groan. "I'm not even your friend. I destroy every ounce of good around me."

"This is nonsense, Bell." Clarke retorts but she is nothing shorter than caring and that seems to bother her restless friend.

"You stay away from me – before I wreck you – You stay away." Bellamy whispers frantically and slips to the other end of the bed but Clarke is quick to crawl after him, grabbing his arm and pulling him back towards her.

"I've already made that mistake once." She whispers to herself. "I'm not letting go of you now."

Bellamy glares up at her but she still wraps her arms around him and in the end he doesn't find the strength to be angry at her or himself. He sighs desperately and remains silent. So does she.

Eventually, Bellamy lets out the tears he'd kept locked inside. He cries and buries his face in her bosom.

"Why are you so nice to me, Clarke?"

The blond surgeon can barely hear the little whisper but she doesn't want to answer the petty question so she holds him closer, rocking him slowly and promising that everything is going to be alright.

"I've never been a good friend to you," Bellamy says into her shirt and then he's looking up at her like a deer caught in headlights, "I've been a jerk so many times to you but you're here, you're here with me and I don't deserve any of..."

Clarke doesn't know what has come over her. All she knows is Bellamy's whining is getting on her nerves and the only thing she can think of is his poor broken heart and that terrible feeling of being useless and helpless and in a pathetic moment of utter despair, _well_ – she never thought she'd do such a thing in such a wrong time but she kisses him.

She grabs him from the neck and crushes her lips against his.

 **XXXXI – Forty-one**

 _Fuck_ , is the first word that comes to mind when Clarke wakes up that early morning. What the hell was she thinking, getting advantage of a drunk and broken man? What the hell was wrong with her? What was Bellamy going to say to her when he wakes up? What is she supposed to do now?

Oh, well – there is one decent thing she did after all... She did manage to push him away, stop the craziness before it reached a climax. And he had looked hurt and confused but the more she thinks about it and the more she agrees with her decision. She is a virgin. He is a mess. Having sex would have been all wrong and the kissing still feels like a terrible mistake.

Her phone buzzes near the coffee table and she forgets about the awful present for a very short second.

"Hi, Raven. How is everything going?" She says into the receiver.

"Clarke. We almost have it all. The evidence with pictures and short videos of the asshole caught red-handed! Oh, Clarke – Zara is not the only victim! It turns out he does this shit to a whole other bunch of kids, all friends of the family and the bastard never even got caught. He's like good with people, like he talks really well and all of that garbage but – anyways, he's going be locked up for hell of a long time, maybe for life! I'll get back to you as soon as I get the last info about the arrest and the oncoming trial."

Clarke blinks her eyes rapidly, taking in the information and despite her will to feel relieved, there's still that terrible hole deep inside her chest.

"Thank you, Raven. Thank you so much." Clarke whispers quietly and hopes to God that she doesn't sound too emotional.

"Hey, love." Raven says reassuringly. "We're in this together – all of us and that includes the other victims' parents. You, my friend, are doing great for now, alright? You just take care of Bellamy while we manage of all of the paperwork here in New York, you hear me?"

"Of course – Yeah, thanks again, for everything." Clarke says politely.

"Oh and Clarke?" Raven croaks out.

"Yeah?" The blond answers quietly.

"Please, stop thanking me for all of this – it gets really annoying after a while." Raven says flatly but Clarke can hear the smile in her voice.

"Right..." Clarke lets out quiet little chuckle. "Talk to you later?"

"Sure thing. Take care, love." Raven says kindly.

"You too." Clarke answers before hanging up.

…...

She's just hung up the phone, she's just started eating her breakfast and already Bellamy is awake, walking sluggishly towards her with only his boxers on and – _Oh God_ , she thinks, how the hell is she supposed to behave? And how is she supposed to be immune to the perfect torso and the brawny thighs? How can she not stare at him?

"Morning." Bellamy says casually and comes to sit right beside her.

After an initial moment of panic, she smiles at him and manages to croak an answer.

"Good morning." She says and she can tell that he must have heard the anxiety in her voice.

"Yesterday was crap." Bellamy says with a grimace. "Thank God I can't remember much of it. What did you do anyway? Did you just fall asleep? Was I annoying? Did I do something to you?"

 _Oh God!_ This was much worse than she thought. What was she supposed to say now? He clearly could not remember anything. Should she simply smile and then pretend that she forgot all about the crazy make-out session they had had the night before?

"Clark? Are you all there?" Bellamy asks.

"Sorry, I guess I couldn't hear you."

"Of course you could hear me. What is wrong with you? You don't look good. Are you sick? Were you drunk as well?"

Clarke looks up at him. She feels so lost and so utterly pathetic.

She doesn't know what to think but the thing is, there is a very distinct feeling at the very pit of her stomach. It is a dreadful one, the kind that she thought she'd long gotten rid of.

"We kissed." She blurts out before she can think of all the reasons why she shouldn't tell him. "I'm sorry. It was a mistake."

Bellamy stares at her for a very long time. His brow is furrowed and his lips barely twitch open as he tries to speak but nothing comes out of his mouth. He remains silent and Clarke feels awfully shameful.

"You were a mess and I was desperate. I didn't know how to reassure you." She says rapidly and he looks away, his eyes growing watery and bloodshot.

"Why'd you think it was a mistake?" He asks quietly and Clarke thinks that her jaw is dropping all the way down to the floor.

"I – we – I guess – it was wrong. You were drunk." Clarke stammers when he shuffles closer.

"Is that all?" Bellamy asks and Clarke can see suspicion shining through his eyes.

"What do you mean?" Clarke croaks out.

"Never mind." Bellamy whispers tiredly. "We've more important things to take care of at the moment."

Clarke sighs and looks down at her phone. She stares at the picture of her dad and Wells, the one wallpaper she's always used on her phone. They're smiling brightly, standing next to each other with a banner held between the two of them. It is decorated with sparks and colorful confetti and the blond surgeon realizes that the words written on it are forever embedded in her memory. _Happy sixteenth birthday, Clarke!_

"Ugh... I forgot we were still in Wilmington – in your old house..." Bellamy says absent-mindedly as he looks up at the ceiling.

"I'll take a shower and get dressed." Clarke says flatly. "Then we can get back to New York."

And despite de tenderness she sees in Bellamy's eyes, she feels upset and she's afraid that their friendship will soon be no more than a distant memory. Like the picture of Wells and dad on her phone, the man who used to be her second best friend is surely slipping away from her and already she can feel the bitterness that comes with the loss and nostalgia.

So what if one day – maybe next week – Bellamy is only a picture? Someone she used to know, someone she used to love.

But someone who's dead to her...?

 **XXXXII– Forty-two**

Everything goes on quite wonderfully in terms of practicality. The trial is a success – if any trial of any sort can ever be a success – and the pedophile is sentenced to a lifetime in jail. The little Zara is on a tough schedule, going to therapy twice each week right after school and yet powering through it all in such an admirable way. Clarke can only wonder at the girl's emotional strength and she hopes that with time, she won't relapse into some terrible downward spiral at the realization of what molesting really is – what it really means...

Bellamy is almost unrecognizable. He has sworn that his life would evolve around his little girl and only her and in the midst of his big makeover, he has somehow erased Clarke from his life... Alright, so maybe Clarke is being a bit too bitter and the truth is Bellamy still visits and lets her pick up Zara whenever she wants to, promising that Clarke will always be the god-mother – but – but the sad thing is... He's so close and yet so far. It's like he's switched something from inside him and she can never see through his eyes ever again – whatever bond they used to have is now, clearly, dead.

It's hard in the beginning and Clarke thinks that it's almost worst than losing him to death but with time, she gets used to it – sort of...

When summer comes around, she knows she needs to give Bellamy all the space he needs. She knows she's not in love with him anymore though she still cares about him very much.

So that very early morning, when the long-awaited letter shows up in her mail, she smiles brightly. She knows she's ready to go – ready to leave the country. And she wants _this_. She wants to make a difference in the world, she wants her friends and family to have a reason to travel, to come see her abroad. She needs change – and now she's about to have it.

 **XXXXII– Forty-three**

Because she's leaving, her mother wants to sell the old house. Clarke seemed to be the only reason Abigail still held on to that old dwelling and now that she's leaving, she wants her to take care of it. Clarke finds pleasure in such an activity. There's something refreshing about two weeks spent in Wilmington, there's something fun about people coming to check out her house, commenting on the paint on the walls, and the wood of the doors or the space in the small backyard. And because Clarke likes to brag about all of it, Bellamy begs her to take care of his house too. He wants to be rid of it but he can't find the strength to sort through the few things he has left in there and he especially hates the attic.

He first insists on throwing everything away but Clarke knows that it's the worst idea. She'd rather take care of it all so she can give away the stuff that might be useful. Besides there must be some really important stuff in that dark old box with the grey tape on it. She recognizes Octavia's writing on the cover, it goes something like: " _souvenirs and artifacts._ "

Clarke smiles when she grabs the box from one of the shelves in the attic.

She wipes the dust away with her hand and then proceeds to tear the thing open. She finds a bunch of journals and photographs stacked in a folder. She pulls them out and right under them she discovers a bundle of old yellowing envelops. She flicks trough them all and realizes that all of them are open and that they've never been mailed. She lets out a little chuckle and inspects them closely. Except for the faded colors of old paper, there is absolutely nothing written on them, no recipient and no returning address.

Curiosity definitely gets the best of her and she finds herself pulling the postcards out of the envelops with such greediness that she laughs and shakes her head. Anyone would think her childish if they saw her act that way but she doesn't care. She can tell that all these postcards have something to do with her childhood, with a blue-cladded Octavia smiling brightly and a grumpy Bellamy whining for nothing and she can't wait to read what's written on them.

She grabs one haphazardly and inspects the sketch on it. It's a vanilla ice cream drawn on a yellow background and it reminds her of home and of long and fun summer days spent with Octavia and Bellamy down the main avenue in the little town park. Hastily, she flicks it over and reads the few words scribbled on it.

 _Deer Clarke,_

 _Today is the first day of Spring. Octavia says U want to marry me. I don't beleeeve her. Im writing U this letter to ask U to come to my birthday. Im 10 yrs old now and Im stronger. You know I can scare the bad guys away._

 _B. Blake._

Clarke feels a rush of emotion surging through her and blinks multiple times as she reads the short paragraph over and over again. She racks her brain for a memory, something to remind her of that specific day and she knows that Bellamy never told her any of these things. Sure, she'd been invited to his birthday, but she never thought that he wanted her to come, she was convinced that little Octavia had forced the whole thing on her brother and out of politeness, mister Blake had called the Griffins and asked for them to bring Clarke to the house for the little birthday party but – Surely this was Octavia's idea and ten year-old Bellamy had – obviously – never meant for her to receive any such postcard.

She grabs another one from the little pile and with each passing second her reading grows more and more frantic, her scanning each of the written words with such urgency and such hunger. It's like this whole thing is some treasured food-for-thought and she can't get enough. So she doesn't even stop to think, she reads through them all as fast as she can, each time holding back the tears and taking a deep breath to calm her nerves.

 **XXXXIV– Forty-four**

 _Dear Clarke,_

 _You're sixteen. I can't believe you're sixteen. You used to be so little. You and Octavia both.  
At age 20, I'm still a coward. I can't bring myself to tell you – I can't send you these postcards either but I trust that one day – I will... I'm just waiting for the perfect occasion. You know that little thing you desperately want to be perfect? That special moment. That's what I'm waiting for. _

_B. Blake._

…...

 _Dear Clarke,_

 _Don't got no time for joking no more!  
You are a woman, you are 13 now and Octavia told me you got your period. _

_So I decided to bring the perfect gifts to your birthday:  
1\. The Knuckle-duster, in case some asshole tries to rape you. Got one for Octavia too.  
2\. Pastel Pencils, in case you decide to follow your insane dream of being both a doctor and an artist. You just have to be a perfect little know-it-all, huh?  
3\. The box of junk food. I suggest you hide that shit under your bed. We all know Abigail's crazy diet rules and we don't want to get in trouble, do we?_

 _Anyways, chances are, you don't even know these are from me but that's alright.  
And for now, because you still think I'm that stupid angry kid, I'll have to look at you from far away like an idiot. But I'm hoping that soon enough – you'll see me as the super hot boyfriend that I really am!_

 _B. Blake._

…...

 _Dear Clarke,_

 _Today was the last day of practice at school. I scored the perfect touchdown but because some asshole working on the defense my collarbone broke! If only you knew how much that shit hurts, Clarke. But of course, you don't. You're too busy being the perfect kid with the perfect grades and the very perfect health._

 _God, I hate you so much, it hurts. In fact, I hate you so much that I'm now writing to no one on some stupid postcard with stupid profiteroles on it. I bought it because it reminded me of your obsession with food. You pig, you can always stuff yourself and look pretty and thin while I have to to do training and workouts and of all of that stupid shit._

 _God I hate you so much._

 _B. Blake._

…...

 _Dear Clarke,_

 _I'm so disappointed in you. Why do you have to give up on art? You can be a doctor and a painter at the same time, you stupid kid. Whatever happened to fixing people's bodies and hearts, huh? You know medicine doesn't help hearts. It just helps with the bruises and the broken bones and all of that physical, visible shit._

 _But what about the broken hearted and those who are in shit so deep they can't even see clearly? What about me Clarke?_

 _If you go to pre-med, I'm never getting a chance to see you because that stupid stuff takes way too much time. And because I'm a major in law, I'm not exactly free either._

 _Fuck all those people who told us to go study in those crazy ass shit of expensive schools. My God, are we ever going to be able to pay back those stupid loans?_

 _I feel like shit, Clarke. I feel like shit and I need your art. I need you but you're not here._

 _I hope you choose New York, I hope you come study here. Then you can share some cheap apartment with me and Octavia. And maybe, just maybe I get to tell you what I've always wanted to tell you._

 _Maybe I'll finally have that special moment._

 _B. Blake._

…...

 _Dear Clarke,_

 _It's happened. That shit my dad used to tell me about. That thing about this one special girl who makes all the other girls disappear. That one person you like – love more than any other? You know that stupid crap about the one and only?_

 _Well, fuck you Clarke. Fuck you, because it seems to me that you are that one only exception and I hate it. You are the absolute opposite of what I AM, and I hate it._

 _You're imperfectly perfect, and I hate that. Even when you tell jokes about puke or poo or whatever other disgusting stupidity, I find myself staring at you. Hoping that one day, you'll look me in the eye, an show me with your green and ridiculously charming eyes – show me that you love me._

 _PS: There's no way in hell that I'm attending your 26th birthday. Last thing I need is my heart broken and I heard Octavia talking about some asshole your friends might be trying to set you up with. Some asshole named Finn. Yeah – well... I'm going to stay in Wilmington and I'm going to work my ass off while you're partying because I can't stand your perfect little face._

 _Have a nice life, fucking perfect Clarke._

 _B. Blake._

… _..._

 _Dear Clarke,_

 _I don't know what to think._

 _I'm so sorry for all the shit you're going through. It stinks. I'm sorry your daddy's dead. I'm sorry Wells is too. It will get better. It has to because I can't stand the sight of you crying. And if I could, if I deserved your perfection, I would hold you in my arms for all of eternity._

 _B. Blake._

… _..._

 _Dear Clarke,_

 _I'm writing less and less. Those stupid postcards don't make any sense anyways and it's not like I'll ever send them to you. I'm a coward, you probably already know that._

 _I can't believe I'm in my late twenties, well practically thirty already. But there's this cute girl I met at city hall. She's a secretary. And she doesn't make me feel the way you do – she doesn't look at me the way you do. But still, there's something about her and I thought I should give us a try._

 _So I'm dating her now. And though I never asked you and you never met her, I'm hoping you approve of her._

 _B. Blake._

… _..._

 _Dear Clarke,_

 _I never thought I'd feel SO shitty. Octavia's gone. Everything's gone. I'm never writing you any postcards ever again. This was stupid anyways._

 _I hate the world. I hate Cassandra too. I hate everything._

 _But I don't hate you. And I hate the fact that I can't hate you._

 _I hate the fact that I care about you so deeply – I can't think of anyone but you._

 _I don't think anyone else could heal the hole that Octavia left in my chest._

 _And – –_

 _Fuck._

 _B. Blake._

… _..._

 _Dear Clarke,_

 _I know now that I don't hate you. I simply hate the fact that I love you and I can never have you._

 _I told your mom that I was hoping I would tell you how I feel before any of the stuff with Cassandra got any serious. I was about to break up with her but then. Your mom wasn't too happy. To be fair, she only voiced the fears that I wished to keep hidden inside._

 _She said I didn't deserve you and I should live my life with Cassandra. She specifically made me promise that I would never try to be romantic with you and – I was angry. I was furious._

 _But then I saw my reflection in the mirror of my bathroom and I realized. Your mom's right. I don't deserve you. You are far better than me in every way._

 _I'm hoping that with Cassandra, I'll find the spark, a love like yours and in the mean time, I wish you the absolute best._

 _B. Blake._

… _..._

 _Dear Clarke,_

 _Last postcard in the stack._

 _Fuck this. I am so burning all of this waste of trees. I'm burning them the day I move out of this shitty house._

… _..._

 **XXXXV– Forty-five**

Clarke shows up at Bellamy's place without a single warning. It's a cute little two-bedroom in down town New York and Clarke has been to the place so many times before that it almost feels like home though not quite.

She rings the doorbell impatiently. Soon after the door cracks open and the little Zara peers discreetly at Clarke, eyes growing big and lips smiling wide.

"Clarke!" The little girl exclaims with joy. "Come in, quick!"

Clarke chuckles at six year-old girl and steps inside the apartment.

"I didn't know you were coming!" Zara jumps up in excitement and grabs Clarke's hand, dragging her towards the kitchen.

"Daddy Bell and I were cooking muffins, want to help?" Zara explains as they reach the doorway to the kitchen.

"Hum – Sure thing." Clarke says contentedly.

"Clarke!" Bellamy says with surprise and wipes the chocolate away from his cheek. "What are you doing here, I though you were busy with the whole house selling in Wilmington?"

Clarke shakes her head. "I needed a break."

Bellamy looks suspicious but he smiles nonetheless, passing her an apron and pointing to the recipe stuck on the fridge.

"Get to work, Griffin." He orders amicably.

They make a good team, Clarke thinks when they're done with the pastry. Together, Zara and her watch Bellamy as he pushes the silver tray inside the oven. He choses the right temperature, the right time and then pulls pack, looking through the glass as the pastry starts to change – ever so slowly but surely.

"This is taking too long. I'm going to go watch a cartoon. Call me when it's ready!" Zara whines and turns on her heel, exiting the kitchen in a haste.

"So." Bellamy starts with a lop-sided smile.

"So." Clarke says knowingly.

"What brings you back here so soon." Bellamy says as he pulls off the apron over his head.

Clarke notices his shirt slipping up. She sees his stomach, she sees the fine abs and she can't help herself.

"I though..." Bellamy starts again but he is interrupted by Clarke's thumb.

He looks enthralled as her finger wipes the bits of chocolate off his chin and then he almost gasps because she's bringing that same finger back to her mouth, sucking on it, tasting the chocolate.

"I found the postcards." Clarke says simply and slips her warm hands under his shirt, grabbing his waist gently and pulling him close.

"And I love them." She whispers in his ear and she can feel his warm breath on her neck. "I love you – but you already know that." She adds archly.

It takes less than a second for Bellamy to react and Clarke couldn't be any happier about the urgency that characterizes his next move. He pulls her up, setting her on the kitchen aisle. And for a moment, he stares at her, eyes growing bigger, lips smiling in wonder, in satisfaction and in surprise all at the same time.

And she's happy – he's happy. And she knows that she's doing it now – she's fixing his heart, fixing his smile and filling the emptiness in his heart.

"I'm sorry I waited all this time." Clarke whispers against his lips.

"I'm sorry I never told you." Bellamy says lovingly and lets his forehead rest against hers.

For a full minute, they remain this way, silent and rested. Holding onto each other and enjoying the warmth radiating from each of their bodies.

"Daddy Bell? Aunty Clarke?" Zara says with tint of disgust when she catches them hugging so intimately.

She remains in the doorway of the kitchen with her mouth gaping open. But Bellamy and Clarke barely take notice of her disgust. If anything, they grow even more disgusting, sticking each other's thongs down each other's throat.

"Eww!" Zara cries out and goes back to her bedroom.

But as she settles on her bed, she can hear them laugh and though her little six-year old mind can't explain it – she thinks she likes it, she sort of enjoys the thought of Bellamy and Clarke being so strangely close.

There might be something magical about it.

And anything magical, thinks Zara, definitely offsets the whole disgusting kissing thing.

* * *

 ** _This was written a long time ago and I was supposed to post it much sooner but I lost my login and password - again. Now I'm back and I'm hoping I'll get to write more fanfiction for the 100._**

 ** _There might be an epilogue for this. I'm still trying to write it._**


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